









Book 1. 3 io J a 

Copyright N° 


COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 


"'V 



JACKSON AND HIS HENLEY FRIENDS 


.A .V 














































































































Then they struck out with all their strength for the 

opposite bank. 


Frontispiece. See Page 252 . 


Ube IbenleB Scboolbogs Series 


JACKSON AND HIS 
HENLEY FRIENDS 


BY 

FRANK E. CHANNON 

Author of “ An American Boy at Henley 


Illustrated by 

H. BURGESS 


BOSTON 

LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY 
1911 




^ '.-V- 

c^> 


Copyright, 1911 , 

By Little, Brown, and Company. 
rights reserved 


Published, September, 1911 


% 


» / 
N 


printers 

S. J. Tarkhill <fc Co., Boston, U. S. A. 


©Cl. A 2 8574 5 
V 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER PAGE 


I. 

The Open Mile 




1 

II. 

Juniors and Seniors 




15 

III. 

Henley Elects Her Captain 




24 

IV. 

A Midnight Excursion . 




33 

V. 

Blackmail 




41 

* VI. 

The Riot 




53 

VII. 

Plans for the Field Day 




64 

VIII. 

The March to “ The Sun ” . 




74 

IX. 

The Fight for the Hill 




82 

X. 

Captain Dobbs Hails Mr. Dutton 



92 

XI. 

A Close Call for Dobson . 




100 

XII. 

A Visit to Captain Dobbs . 




110 

XIII. 

“ The Steep Holme ” 




120 

XIV. 

A Coach and Four . 




129 

XV. 

“ Beverly Castle ” . 




140 

XVI. 

The Bonhaven Plate 




147 

XVII. 

Henley Again .... 




155 

XVIII. 

A Crisis for Berry and Tucker 



164 

XIX. 

Plans 




170 

XX. 

Empty Cots .... 




176 

XXI. 

Domestic Tribulations . 




183 

XXII. 

Captain Dobbs Takes a Hand 




189 

XXIII. 

Conferences .... 




198 



JACKSON AND HIS 
HENLEY FRIENDS 


CHAPTER I 

THE OPEN MILE 

Henley College was having one of its big 
days. You would have said so had you been 
there. The four-acre “ Tempus ludendi ” was 
swarming with all sorts of men and women, 
boys and girls. Some eight or nine hundred 
college boys, resplendent in snowy, spotless 
collars, black Eton jackets and broad-brimmed 
straw hats banded by the school colors of red 
and black, were strolling about, showing their 
people the sights of the place, proudly superior 
in their knowledge of things. Excited juniors 
were darting here, there, everywhere, shouting 
at the top of their shrill trebles, and hordes of 
townspeople were sauntering about the splendid 
grounds. Here and there a black-gowned 
master could be seen, walking with dignified 
carriage amid the gay confusion. 


2 f JACKSON AND HIS HENLEY FRIENDS 

The classic gables of the college loomed out 
along the entire west side of the grounds, 
backed by the towering Cotswold range of 
hills, while dotted around the magnificent 
green, white posts were visible, defining the 
oval track on which presently was to be fought 
the battle of speed and muscle. 

A confusion of shouts arose from the scene. 
Undoubtedly Henley College was having one 
of its big days. 

“ Hello, Tuck, you beggar! ” yelled an ex- 
cited “ sprat ” (third form boy). “ Get over 
here; Fve got my mater, and can’t leave her.” 

The “ beggar ” addressed as “ Tuck ” dived 
deftly under some ropes and carromed heavily 
into a corpulent old gentleman, who was inno- 
cently surveying the scene, unconscious of 
danger. 

“ Ugh! ” grunted the stout one, as he felt the 
full force of the collision. “ What are you 
trying to do, my little man? ” # 

“ Trying to get to Strawberry’s mother, sir,” 
explained the hastening youngster, as he 
scrambled on his way. 

“ I am not she,” repudiated the injured one, 
but “ Tuck,” otherwise Percy Morris Tucker, 
had passed gayly on and brought up at his 
desired haven. 

“ Look here, mater, here's this chap Tuck — 


THE OPEN MILE 


$ 

that is, I mean, you know, it’s Tucker, my 
chum,” introduced Strawberry, known on the 
school roll as George Newman Berry. 

“ How do you do? ” inquired the “ mater,” 
with kindly interest. 

“ Fine, thanks,” shouted Tucker, straighten- 
ing out his crumpled hat and rubbing his head. 

“ Did you hurt the old gentleman? ” in- 
quired the lady, who had observed the collision. 

“ No, I don’t think so, but he bashed my hat 
in,” complained the junior; then, turning ex- 
citedly to his chum, “ Say, Straw, hurry up; 
they’re going to start in half an hour, and some 
cad’s stole my pumps and corks; ” he rattled 
on, “ the junior hurdles is second, you know.” 

“ Say,” delicately hinted Berry to his mother, 
“ think it will be all right if I steer you and Lil 
back of the pop stand? I’ve got to peel, you 
know, and you’ll get a stunning view from there. 
Come on, Tuck, hack your way through. Catch 
on to my coat, mater, and you tow on behind, 
Lil.” 

Thus instructed, Mrs. Berry endeayored to fol- 
low the rapid, aggressive movements of her son, 
as h§ and his chum twisted in and out through 
the crowd, shouting orders to her from the 
van: 

“ Back water, there, mater! Now, come on! 
Steady, Lil, what’re you shoving for? Don’t 


\ * 

4 JACKSON AND’ HIS HENLEY FRIENDS 

hit it up so hard, — easy, I say. Now, then, 
all together! ” 

They reached the vantage point at last, the 
two ladies rather out of breath, and some- 
what disheveled, but safe. 

“ Get out of that chair, you shrimp! ” 
brusquely ordered Berry, addressing a small, 
first form lad; “ chairs for visitors only, you 
know.” 

“ Oh, let the little boy sit there, George,” 
remonstrated Mrs. Berry, but the youngster 
had already backed away, with a muttered 
apology, and the “ mater ” was thrust into 
the vacant seat, with a growl of instruction 
from her son. “ Sit there, can’t you, or seme 
one will swipe it; take Lil on your lap. Now, 
we’ve got to cut, you know,” he rattled on, in 
explanatory manner; “ the junior hurdles is 
second, and you’ll see Tuck and me making a 
show of the other chaps. We’ll try to get back 
to you in time for the four-forty and the mile, 
though; my man, that Yankee, Jackson, is in 
for that, and he’s going to win for the school. 
We’re going to come back and rip for him — 
hang tight; don’t lose your places.” 

The youngsters were gone before the bewil- 
dered mother .could find time to form a reply. 

“ What is the four-forty, mother? ” inquired 
the lady’s daughter. 


THE OPEN MILE 


5 


“ I’m sure I don’t know, dear, but it’s a race 
of some sort, I suppose; it seems to be all 
races to-day.” 

“ The four hundred and forty,” explained a 
gentleman who was standing back of the two 
ladies, “ is the quarter of a mile race. That 
and the open mile are considered the two most 
important races of the day, I believe.” 

“ Oh, yes, mother, that’s it. I remember 
George said that the boy he — he fags for, I 
think he said, was going to run in the mile 
race. He’s the American, you know, of whom 
Bert was so fond.” 

“ Of course,” assented Mrs. Berry, “ it’s 
Roger Jackson, Bert’s old chum. Why, there 
he is now! ” 

A tall, wiry-looking youth of seventeen was 
advancing towards the ladies, accompanied by 
a shorter, thick-set fellow. 

“ Good morning, Mrs. Berry,” he greeted, 
raising his hat. “ Good morning, Miss Lily; 
we’ve been looking everywhere for you, haven’t 
we, Dob? ” 

“ Yes,” agreed Dobson, as he shook hands, 
“ but there’s such a mob here to-day that it’s 
hard to find any one. Max lost his folks and 
has only just found them; at least, he didn’t, 
but Yank, here, spotted the two twins.” 

“ Dear me,” mused Miss Lily, in apparent 


6 JACKSON AND HIS HENLEY FRIENDS 


deep concern, “ could it be possible that there 
were more than two twins? ” 

“ I mean, you know, there was a couple of 
them,” Dobson confessed. 

“ Think you will be comfortable here? ” 
questioned Roger Jackson; “ you’ll get a good 
view, but it’s not so comfortable as on the 
stand.” 

“ There’s not a ghost of a chance there,” 
Dobson said; “ everything’s full up; you had 
better stay where you are.” 

“ Oh, we’re very comfortable here, thank 
you,” assured Mrs. Berry. “ George displaced 
some poor little boy to make room for us; he 
was quite rude to him, in fact.” 

“ I guess he’ll survive,” Roger consoled; 
“ the chairs are for visitors, you know.” 

“ Well, we’d better be jogging,” warned Dob- 
son. “You know, Mrs. Berry, the hopes of 
the school rest on Yank for capturing the open 
mile, and we want to put him on the track fit. 
This Charterhouse chap, Jones, is a top- 
notcher, and Yank will have to extend himself 
to rip the tape first; come on, old man! ” 

The two chums departed, arm in arm, 
Henley fashion, as a bugle blared from some- 
where, and there was a general scattering of the 
crowd from the course. 

White-smocked officials, with red flags, waved 


THE OPEN MILE 


7 


back the mob, and old Doctor Proctor, the 
head of Henley College, who had consented to 
act as judge, stalked with dignified steps to- 
wards the finishing line at the chapel end of the 
grounds. 

The first event was the junior hundred and 
twenty yards, and then the junior hurdles, in 
which Berry and Tucker were entered. These 
two youngsters were fully conscious of their 
own importance, and thoroughly convinced 
in their own little minds that the great crowd 
had assembled solely to witness this event. 
Berry waved his hand in lordly manner to his 
mother and sister, as he and Tucker strolled 
up to the white line. 

There was a perfect mob of contestants for 
this event, and it was run off in seven heats. 
Both Berry and Tucker succeeded in capturing 
their respective heats, but in the final Tucker 
was left in the ruck, while Berry tripped and 
fell over the last hurdle, and came down while 
leading his field. 

They appeared fifteen minutes later at the 
spot where they had left the ladies, both rather 
crestfallen, but still convinced that they would 
have won if — if — if only something hadn’t 
happened. 

Mrs. Berry consoled them as only a motherly 
woman knows how to, and then all attention 


8 JACKSON AND HIS HENLEY FRIENDS 

was turned towards the open mile, which great 
event was next on the card. 

“ There’s Maxwell! ” shouted Tucker, who 
had recovered his spirits. “ Oh, and there’s 
Jackson! Look, Straw — I mean, Berry,” he cor- 
rected himself, glancing uneasily at Mrs. Berry. 

“ And there’s the Charterhouse chap, Jones! 
By Jinks, isn’t he a little fellow? Doesn’t look 
as if he’d stand any chance along with Jackson,” 
yelled Berry, whose memory of defeat was now 
swallowed up in the excitement of the coming 
struggle. 

The contestants were trotting out on the 
track. Only five responded to the starter’s call. 
The rest had been scared out by the class of the 
champions. 

A mighty shout greeted the runners, as they 
toed the line for this great annual event — The 
British Public School Open Mile. 

On the inside was the gaunt, long-legged 
Henleyite, Maxwell; next came the dreaded 
Charterhouse boy, a short little runt of a fellow, 
but with a suggestion of great speed and staying 
powers in his compact, well-knit limbs; then 
the wiry American, Roger Jackson, the fifth 
form Henley boy; and on his right, the Mal- 
vern College champion, Batten; Wyles, the 
celebrated Etonian, a typical-looking speeder, 
was on the extreme outside. 


THE OPEN MILE 


9 


A hush fell over the waiting thousands as 
the boys ranged themselves up, and the Rev. 
Milton Murray, senior house master at Henley, 
gave them a few parting instructions. 

“ It’s four laps to the mile, mater,” hoarsely 
whispered Berry, “ and Max is to cut out the 
running for Jackson, you know.” 

“ Ready? ” came the query from the starter 
far up the track. 

The five runners bent forward in position, 
Maxwell on the inside, stretching out until his 
finger-tips touched the turf, as if he were 
starting for the hundred-yard dash, instead of 
the long mile. 

Roger Jackson, who always carried corks, 
fidgeted about with them, while the chunky 
little Charterhouse boy kept his eye on the 
starter. The Malvern fellow and Wyles were 
on tiptoes. 

“ Three! ” cried Mr. Murray. 

The runners made their final poise. 

“ Two!” 

Maxwell, on the balance, like a hound in 
leash, made a false start, and was called back. 

Then the nerve-racking words were gone over 
again. 

“ Three! ” 

“ Two!” 

“ Gun! ” — They’re off! 


10 JACKSON AND HIS HENLEY FRIENDS 


A deep roar of excitement greeted the start, 
and the runners were away on their journey. 

Maxwell, on the inside, had jumped off with 
the crack of the gun, and was leading his field 
by a couple of yards, as they flashed past the 
stand, with its mob of yelling spectators. Down 
the field, past the long lines of shouting school- 
boys, they raced towards the near turn, the 
Eton boy running second, with Batten and 
Roger neck and neck, close behind, and the 
Charterhouse champion last, taking things 
easily in the ruck. 

The school breathed contentedly. Things 
had started as they hoped they would. The 
two scarlet Henley champions were well up, 
Maxwell leading, as he was expected to, cutting 
out the running for his mate. 

As they swung around into the far side, Roger 
moved up to second place, two yards behind 
his running mate, and the Charterhouse boy, 
evidently determining not to be left too far 
behind, ran into third place, with Batten and 
Wyles bringing up the rear. 

So they ran past the stand the second time 
around, and then, as they headed for the far 
side again, the Eton and Malvern fellows chal- 
lenged Jones for third place. The little Charter- 
house chap responded with a burst of speed that 
left the two challengers far behind, and brought 


THE OPEN MILE 


11 


him up to within a few inches of the Henley 
couple. Maxwell gave a quick half-glance 
behind, and then let himself out in a terrific 
spurt, and Jones, going like the wind, intent on 
collaring the leader, flashed past Roger, and 
ran into second place. 

The school yelled itself hoarse, as the rapid 
changing of positions took place, and then 
yelled again until it was black in the face, as 
the two rear runners began again to close in on 
the flying leaders. 

Past the stand the runner flashed again, and 
started on the third lap, with the American 
running well within himself, and still in third 
position, while Maxwell tore along to the fore, 
with the Charterhouse fellow hot at his heels 
not a foot behind. Then something happened. 

Maxwell had shot his bolt! He withered up 
and dropped away, and the four chasers shot 
past him in a flash. 

His sudden collapse left Jones in the com- 
mand by a good ten feet, with Roger his next 
attendant. Around they sped, past the stand 
again, and into the last lap. 

A bell rang loudly from somewhere. 

“ Last lap! Last lap! ” the cry went up. 

“Now, Jackson, now! Come on, sir, come 
on! ” 

“ Stick to him, Batten! Stick to him, 


12 JACKSON AND HIS HENLEY FRIENDS 


Wyles! ” yelled the Eton and Malvern con- 
tingents in unison, and loud above the din arose 
the Charterhouse cheers and shouts: 

“ Go on, Jones! Go on, sir; you’ve got him! 
Go on, sir! ” and then the familiar Henley 
cry, and shouts of: “ Jackson! Jackson! Now, 
Jackson, make your run! ” 

Jackson was making it. He had gained five 
feet on the leader, and Batten and Wyles were 
both closing up. A blanket would have covered 
the four as they whizzed around the far turn and 
shot up into the straight in front of the 
stand. 

The occupants of the grandstand were on 
their feet in an uproar. 

“ Come on, sir, come on! Jones! Jones! 
Hold him off, Jones! Foot it, Jackson, foot it, 
sir! Now, Wyles! Now, Batten, come on, 
sir! ” 

A perfect babel of shouts arose from the 
wildly excited spectators, as the flying boys 
straightened out for the last hundred yards. 
Doctor Proctor was fingering his end of the 
tape nervously, as it swayed gently in the 
breeze, his keen old eyes watching sharply the 
four blurs of white, red, blue and black, as they 
flashed towards him. 

On, on, they came in a terrific final spurt. 
Now there were only three colors in the van! 


\ 



Jt was a hair-raising finish. Pa<je 13 






































» 






THE OPEN MILE 


13 


Now only two! Only the white and the red! 
The white of the Charterhouse champion, the 
red of the Henleyite. They were neck and neck 
now! It was a whirlwind finish. 

“ Jackson! Jackson! Jones! Jones!” The 
shouts went up on every side. 

Fifty yards, and dead level! 

“ Come on! Come on, Henley! Come on, 
Charterhouse! Come on, sir! ” 

The two runners were locked in a fierce 
struggle. It was a hair-raising finish. First the 
scarlet would show a few inches to the fore, 
then the white would crowd it out, and then 
again the scarlet. 

Ten feet more! 

“ Jackson! Jackson! ” a boy’s shrill treble 
screamed above the din, and as if in answer to 
that appeal, the Henley champion gathered 
himself together in a final mighty effort, and in 
a terrific burst of speed caught the tape a foot 
to the fore, then, rolling over, lay panting on the 
turf. 

The great British Public School Open Mile 
was over, and Henley held it, won by Roger 
Jackson, its American student. 

The crowd broke loose and surged over the 
lines on to the track. The exhausted runners 
were picked up and carried shoulder high back 
to the dressing-rooms, while two small boys, 


14 JACKSON AND HIS HENLEY FRIENDS 

almost delirious with excitement and triumph, 
were yelling shrilly, Berry assuring every one 
around and near him that Jackson was his 
“ man,” and that he “ fagged for him.” 


CHAPTER II 


JUNIORS AND SENIORS 

There was no preparation for lessons that 
evening at Henley, and the boys were free to do 
as they pleased. Some obtained leave and 
showed their people around the town, while 
others simply lounged about the old college and 
took things easy. Among the latter were Roger 
Jackson and his chum, Tommy Dobson. The 
two fifth form boys met in the American’s den 
after tea, and there talked over the events of the 
day. 

“ Say, old man, that was a clinking fine 
finish,” congratulated Dobson, as they went 
over the great race again. “ I’ll swear I thought 
sure that fellow had you; I didn’t think you 
had another ounce in you.” 

Roger was swathed about in a bathrobe, 
lolling back in his chair, his feet elevated to 
the table. Some sheets of paper and an 
open book were on the table in front of 
him. He had been “ grinding ” when his 
chum entered. 

“ I knew I had him as we passed the flagstaff 


16 JACKSON AND HIS HENLEY FRIENDS 

at the far end of the stand,” said Roger. “ I 
got my finishing wind there, and I saw him 
falter for a twink, but he ran a rattling fine race; 
I wouldn’t be surprised if he could turn the 
tables if it was run over again. And anyway, I 
could never have hit the tape first if it 
hadn’t been for Max; the way he cut out the 
pace and winded that chap was bully. I tell 
you, Dob, the victory’s as much his as it is 
mine, and I hope the fellows recognize 
that.” 

“ Of course, I know; that’s where you had 
the pull on the other chaps. Say, hasn’t Max 
come along? ” 

“ Bet your life. Do you remember, Dob, 
what a snob he was when he first showed up 
here? It’s lucky that fellow Welsh moved on; 
he’d have ruined Max.” 

“ You’re right, old man. By Jinks, how 
things have changed in the last couple of years. 
It doesn’t seem that it’s only three since you 
first turned up at Henley, does it? Great Scott, 
I can remember that day I first saw you in the 
playing field. Old Murray trotted you out and 
shoved you off on me, and then old Berry came 
along and nabbed you to fag for him, and you 
didn’t even know what fagging was. By Jove, 
how you flared up when I explained to you that 
you had to get his grub and keep his den clean. 


JUNIORS AND SENIORS 


17 


I remember how you blurted out: ‘ What for? 
I’m not his servant, am I? ’ Oh, Yank, you 
were a greenhorn! ” 

“ No more than you’d have been, old boy, 
if you’d been suddenly dumped into a school 
on my side of the pond; everything all new 
and strange, you know. But, I say, isn’t it 
odd that I have Berry’s young brother to fag 
for me now? See, here’s a letter I got from old 
Berry only the other day.” 

Roger “ gunned ” through his desk, and 
presently unearthed a letter which he handed 
to his chum. It read. 

“ In Quarters, Woolwich, 

April 19th, 1910. 

a My Dear Yank: — I am writing that 
young brother of mine before I take train north 
for embarkation for Bermuda, where, you 
know, I am to be stationed for the next two 
years, so I am enclosing this for him to hand 
over to you. 

“ I am jolly glad you can arrange for him to 
fag for you this half; I’ll feel much easier if I 
know he has a good man, for, you know, he’s 
such a frisky young beggar. 

“ I have not time to write much, but I want 
to congratulate you on making the fifth, old 
man; you’ll come pretty close to running 


18 JACKSON AND HIS HENLEY FRIENDS 

through Henley in record time if you keep up 
this gait. 

“ Now, Yank, for the sake of old times, look 
after this kid brother of mine, won’t you? He’s 
all right, you’ll find, but easily influenced by 
others, and, you know, Henley is a place where 
a fellow has a chance to do a lot as he pleases. 
George has chummed up with Tucker, minor, 
the brother of that fellow who was in the third 
with you, and whose reputation for stuffing was 
so great. Does he still keep up that full feeding 
of his? Did he move up into the fifth with 
you and Dobson and the rest of you, or remain 
in the fourth? 

“ The mater goes to stay at Weston while I 
am gone; I wished her to come out with me and 
live in quarters, but she funked at the trip; 
she does so detest water, you know. 

“ I hope to get my promotion this year, and 
when I come back I may have my troop — 
who can tell? 

“ Well, so long, old chap. Once more, look 
after George, won’t you? Regards to all the 
fellows. 

“ Yours as ever, 

“ Herbert Berry.” 

Dobson returned the letter to his chum with 
the remark: “ Berry was a jolly fine chap; 


JUNIORS AND SENIORS 19 

he’ll make good, as you say, wherever he 
goes.” 

“ Bet your life he will,” acquiesced Roger, 
with conviction, as he pocketed the epistle. 

There was a loud knock at the door of the 
den, and without waiting for an invitation to 
enter, young Berry crashed in. 

“ Oh, sorry, Jackson,” he stammered, all 
breathless; “ didn’t know you had any one 
here — say, no end of a lark! You know how 
down on us sprats that new monitor, Halford’s 
been — just cocky because he climbed into the 
sixth this half, you know. We chaps have just 
been getting even with him. You know he sent 
four of us up for lines in three days, so to-night, 
just after prep, Tuck and I and a lot of other 
beggars commenced to make no end of a row 
in our study room. We thought that’d bring 
him, and we fixed things all up nicely ready. 
Had the door shut — that is, you know, just 
closed, and lodged a lot of hot water tins and 
other truck on top; filled ’em up with water, 
too, and then we began to bawl that ‘ Rip-rip- 
row ’ song — you know it. By Jinks, hadn’t 
got to the third line when we heard him coming 
full gallop down the corridor. ‘ You fellows 
shut up that row! ’ he was shouting, and then 
in he burst like a load of bricks, and, whoop, 
down came the cans and water and things all 


20 JACKSON AND HIS HENLEY FRIENDS 


over him. It knocked him silly for a minute, 
and then you ought to have seen how crazy he 
got. He was drenched all through, and wild 
as a hornet, and he flew at Tuck like a wild 
cat. He got him by the collar and pounded him 
across a desk, and, of course, you know, we 
wouldn’t stand for that, so we all pitched in, 
and there was a row, and that brought the 
prefects and the night watchman down on us, 
and now we’re all on the report list — the whole 
batch of us — Whoop! ” 

The eager junior had rattled on with scarcely 
a pause to draw his breath, Roger and Dobson 
sitting back in their chairs helplessly listening 
to him. When at last he stopped, Roger said 
sternly : 

“ See here, Berry, you’ve been getting in 
trouble again; this is the third time inside of 
two weeks. Don’t you know you’ll get on the 
black list if you keep up this pace? ” 

“ Oh, you know, we didn’t do anything,” 
cried the youngster, turning an innocent face 
towards his man, as he saw trouble ahead. “ We 
just put ’em on top of the door to get ’em out 
of the way, and then we thought we’d have a 
song to celebrate the school winning the mile 
to-day. How were we to know that silly beggar, 
Halford, would come sticking his nose in? ” 

“You know you did it all on purpose to get 


JUNIORS AND SENIORS 


21 


him in there; you said so yourself just now, so 
what’s the use of fibbing about it? It’s all right 
to have some fun, but you kids carry it too 
far — Say,” broke off Roger, “ isn’t that 
the nine o’clock call? You should be in your 
dormitory; cut for it, sharp! ” 

“ By Jinks, so it is,” cried the small boy, as 
he turned and dived through the doorway. 

Roger sat with a half-grin on his features, 
gazing at his chum. 

“ Isn’t he a rummy little beggar? ” he de- 
manded. 

“ He’s not like his brother,” admitted Dob- 
son. “ He’s so excitable, and old Berry was 
always so cool. By Jove, old man, I shall 
always remember that time when the school 
sent him to Coventry over that exam business.” 

Then the chums commenced to chat of past 
days at Henley. 

To the readers of “ An American Boy at 
Henley,” it is unnecessary to explain who Roger 
Jackson was, but to those who have not read 
that story, it may be well to explain briefly 
that Roger was a Virginian lad who had been 
placed at the English college while his father 
was absent in India engaged in the construction 
of a great bridge for the British Government. 
Roger entered the school three years ago, and 
was then placed in the third form, the boys in 


22 JACKSON AND HIS HENLEY FRIENDS 


which are nicknamed “ sprats.” The forms 
run from first to sixth, and are dubbed by the 
lads as follows: shrimps, minnows, sprats, 
mackerels, salmons, and whales. Roger en- 
tered as a sprat, but had passed through the 
third and fourth forms into the fifth, and become 
a salmon. He had grown into a tall, thin, wiry 
youth, one of the best boys at the college for 
either sprint or distance, and had made good on 
both river and gridiron, although he could not 
enter into the spirit of the British national 
summer game, cricket. 

There is in vogue at most of the British public 
schools a system called fagging. All boys in 
the first, second or third forms are required 
to fag for boys in the fifth and sixth; 
the fourth is fagless, the lads there neither 
giving nor receiving service. The juniors keep 
the dens of the seniors in order; get their break- 
fast for them when they eat in rooms, and make 
themselves generally useful to their “ men,” in 
return for which service the seniors assist their 
fags with their preparation work, and look out 
for their interests generally. 

When the young American first came to 
Henley he fagged for a sixth form boy named 
Berry, who had now left the school and was in 
the army, but his young brother, George, had 
come on to Henley, and became a sprat and a 


JUNIORS AND SBNIORS 


23 


fag for Roger Jackson. Dobson, the American’s 
chum, whose father, Sir Henry Dobson, is a 
famous old soldier, moved up with him, and is 
now a salmon. So are Cossock, Tucker, primus, 
Bradbury, Dauncy, and many other lads who 
took part in “ An American Boy at Henley.” 
Dobson’s fag is Tucker’s young brother, who is 
in the same form as Berry, and is called Tucker, 
minor, to distinguish him from his brother of the 
fifth form. 

Henley College has a roll call of over a 
thousand boys and is divided into four houses: 
Murray’s, Fairbank’s, Grafton’s and Dole’s, a 
master of those names being at the head of 
each house. 

With this short explanation it is hoped that 
those who have not read “An American Boy 
at Henley ” will be able to follow the fortunes of 
“ Jackson and his Henley Friends.” 


CHAPTER III 


HENLEY ELECTS HER CAPTAIN 

The combined houses of Henley were 
in session next day in the “ Big,” a great 
hall used for the purpose of general assem- 
bly. 

The day following the annual Easter sports 
was always an important one in the college 
annuals, for on that day the school captain was 
elected for the coming year. 

The position of school captain at Henley 
was an unofficial one, although recognized by 
Doctor Proctor. The captain was elected by 
the boys themselves, and his position was that 
of a minor king. On all matters between the 
boys his word was law, and he was sometimes 
called in for consultation by the doctor, when 
the feeling of the lads on any particular sub- 
ject was desired. The appointment of “ pre- 
fects,” or “ spotters,” as they were called by the 
lads, was generally governed by his recommen- 
dation. Hence the office of school captain was 
the most important one open to the students 
at the college. 


HENLEY ELECTS HER CAPTAIN 25 


Belcher, of the sixth form, was occupying the 
chair at the conclave. 

“ Mr. Dobson, of Murray’s, has the floor,” he 
had just announced, whereat there was terrific 
cheering from the Murray two hundred and 
forty-seven boys, and in the midst of the clouds 
of dust raised by the demonstration, the chunky 
figure of Dobson was observed aggressively 
waving some papers. 

“ Look here, you fellows,” he shouted, but 
the fellows had not concluded their greeting, 
and for a while his efforts to obtain a hearing 
were vain. Presently his voice was again heard 
with another: “ Look here, you fellows.” 

“ Order! Order! ” sternly cried the pre- 
siding boy. “ Address the Chair, please.” 

“ Oh, beg pardon, old man — that is, I mean, 
Mr. Chairman, but the beggars make such a 
confounded dust — that is, you know, I should 
say, the honorable members kick up such a row 
that a fellow can’t make himself heard. I 
want to make a speech.” [Cries of “ You don’t 
say! ”] “ Yes, I do,” affirmed Dobson, with 

conviction, “ I want to propose this fellow, 
Yank; that is, I want to propose Mr. Roger 
Jackson, of Murray’s for school captain.” 
[Fearful hubbub from the Murray boys.] 
“ He’s a ripper all right, you know, and you 
can’t get a better chap, for all he’s not in the 


26 JACKSON AND HIS HENLEY FRIENDS 


sixth.” [Loud and prolonged cheers.] “ Let’s 
see, what was I going to say?” [A voice: 
“ Search me.”] “ If you’ll shut up, Kilby, I’ll 
tell you a few things, and — ” 

“ Order! Order! ” again came from the 
Chair. “ The honorable member must address 
the presiding officer.” 

“ How can I, old man — I mean Mr. Chair- 
man, when these beggars, I should say, the 
honorable members keep interrupting a chap 
so? ” demanded the aggrieved Dobson. “ Well, 
here it is, then; I’ve got it all written out,” and 
hastily referring to some sheets of paper he 
resumed: 

“ Mr. Chairman, and fellow members of the 
combined Henley houses, I have great pleasure 
in proposing Mr. Roger Jackson of Murray’s 
fifth form for school captain.” 

Some one shouted: “ You’ve said that be- 
fore,” which appeared to incense the speaker, 
for he responded with some warmth : 

“ I know, but it won’t hurt you to hear it 
again.” 

Then, after again glancing at his notes, he 
demanded savagely: 

“ Now, then, didn’t he stroke the school 
eight against Malvern? Didn’t our shell win 
out by two lengths? ” [Prolonged cheering 
from the entire school.] “ Of course he did. Of 


HENLEY ELECTS HER CAPTAIN 27 


course we won, but we wouldn’t have won if 
Yank — I mean Jackson — hadn’t stroked us. 
Didn’t we almost win against the county? 
Wasn’t it just by a fluke of a drop kick that they 
beat us? Every fellow knows that. Wasn’t 
it Yank — I mean Jackson — who brought 
down their crack half-back within ten of our 
line? ” [Terrific cheering.] “ By Jinks, old 
man — I should say, Mr. Chairman, didn’t he 
overhaul him, though, from half-way down the 
field? ” [“ You bet.”] “ Didn’t he run the 

Charterhouse chap off his feet in the open mile 
yesterday? There isn’t a fellow here who 
doesn’t remember that finish.” [Prolonged 
applause.] “ Well, then, what’s the use of 
talking? ” [A voice: “ Sit down, then.”] 
“ No, I won’t — not till I’ve had my say. You 
all know you can’t find a more stunning chap 
than Jackson.” [Cries of “ He’s a Yankee.”] 
“ Well, what if he is? Can’t a Yankee be 
captain of Henley? We had a New South 
Wales man in ’89. We had a South African 
only last year. You fellows on the other side 
are a lot of rotters and — ” 

“ Order! Order! The honorable member 
must withdraw that remark,” commanded the 
chairman. 

“ Loud shouts of “ Withdraw, withdraw, 
apologize.” 


28 JACKSON AND HIS HENLEY FRIENDS 


“ Oh, well, I’ll withdraw if that remark 
offends / 7 admitted the speaker, “ but you 
fellows make such a lot of rotten interruptions. 
What does it matter if he is a Yankee? As a 
matter of fact, he’s not, he’s a Virginian; but 
you chaps don’t know the difference. Anyway, 
he’s a Henleyite. Hasn’t he worked all the way 
up from a sprat to a salmon? There’s nothing 
more to be said. I propose him for captain. 
Now, then, Dauncy, you second. Get up, you 
duffer! ” 

Loud and prolonged cheering followed, 
in the midst of which the slight figure of 
Augustus Dauncy, the crack fifth form de- 
bater, was observed to be standing waiting for 
silence. 

“ Mr. Dauncy,” recognized the presiding 
officer. 

“ Mr. Speaker,” the lad commenced, “ I 
have been considerably astonished by the feel- 
ing displayed here to-day. Gentlemen on the 
opposite side may cry ‘ Oh, oh,’ but that does 
not alter the fact. It would appear to me, Mr. 
Speaker, that on an occasion like this, when the 
welfare of the entire school is concerned, we 
should not permit partisanship to run away 
with our judgment. It does not matter to 
what house the proposed captain belongs, or 
to what form, provided he is a senior. What we 


HENLEY ELECTS HER CAPTAIN 


29 


want to do is to elect the best man.” [Loud 
cheers.] 

“ My friend, Mr. Dobson, has proposed the 
name of Roger Jackson of Murray’s fifth. I 
heartily second that motion, [loud cheers], and 
for this reason: he’s the man best fitted for 
the job.” [Another outburst of cheering from 
the Murrayites.] “ Now, without any undue 
excitement, let us examine his record since he 
came among us three years ago as a sprat.” 
[Mighty cheers from the third form.] “ To-day 
he is a salmon. To-day he stands fifth on the 
roll of his form. During the period he has 
been with us he has done things. As a third 
form boy he passed the College of Preceptors 
on the honor list. As a third form boy he made 
his mark in an inter-house Rugby match, and 
stroked his house form to the top of the river — 
the first time, gentlemen, that the sprats of 
Murray’s had been top for ten years.” [“ Hear, 
hear,” and loud cheers.] 

“ As a fourth form boy, in company with five 
other fellows whose names will live on Henley’s 
roll-call, he won the medal of the Royal Hu- 
mane Society for a jolly good plucky act.” 
[Great enthusiasm.] “ He made his step to the 
fifth in almost record time, and as manager 
of the ‘ Pageant ’ presented by the boys of that 
form last term, he left an enviable mark for 


30 JACKSON AND HIS HENLEY FRIENDS 


executive ability. He has always been in 
his form shell and fifteen.” [Cries of “ What 
about cricket? ”] “ Gentlemen on the other 

side cry: 1 What about cricket? ’ Mr. Roger 
Jackson does not play cricket.” [Great hoot- 
ing.] “ Is that a disgrace, gentlemen? Must 
a man play cricket in order to be captain of this 
college? ” [“ Yes, yes,” and great disorder.] 

“ I think differently, and the gentlemen on the 
other side would, also, if they were not nearly 
out of their minds with excitement.” [Cries of 
“ Withdraw, withdraw.”] “ Oh, well, if that 
hurts them, I will put it differently, and say 
that they are permitting their judgment to be 
biased by their feelings. I tell you, gentlemen, 
there are more important things than playing 
cricket. A man to be captain of this college 
should be a fellow of judgment and tact; a 
sound fellow. You have such a man in Jack- 
son.” [Prolonged cheering.] 

“ Prominence has been given to the fact that 
he hails from the other side of the pond. Mr. 
President, I trust that Henley is too great a 
school to be influenced by any such foolishly 
weak argument as that. Mr. Jackson is an 
American, and is very properly proud of that 
fact.” [Cheers and hooting.] “ Gentlemen, I 
would not give a fig for a man who was not 
proud of the country of his birth; there is 


HENLEY ELECTS HER CAPTAIN 31 


something wrong with such a man. Mr. Jack- 
son comes from a great country; a country that 
has made such strides as to astonish the world, 
and I take my hat off to his land.” [Cheers and 
catcalls.] “ Henley is nothing if she is not 
cosmopolitan. We have had men here from 
every country in Europe, some from South' 
America, South Africa and Oceania. In two 
cases we have had captains from them. Why 
seek to bar Jackson because he comes from this 
great land of ninety million people who speak 
our tongue, and govern their country according 
to the best traditions of the Anglo-Saxon? ” 

Augustus Dauncy was getting into his stride 
now, and fully sustaining his reputation as 
Murray’s crack speaker. His remarks were 
punctuated by cheers and loud shouts of ap- 
proval from his supporters, but it was soon easy 
to see that the majority of the school was not 
with him. Not so much from the fact that 
Roger was an American did their opposition 
arise, as that he was only a fifth form boy. 
Henley’s captains had heretofore always come 
from the sixth form, and conservative Henley 
disliked to establish a new precedent. 

Three names were before the meeting as 
candidates for the important office: Wade 
and Blake of the sixth, and Jackson of the 
fifth, and as the conclave proceeded it became 


32 JACKSON AND HIS HENLEY FRIENDS 


apparent that Wade was a certain winner. 
Proposed by the gold medalist of the school, 
and seconded by another distinguished member, 
he carried with him the entire support of Dole’s 
and Grafton’s, with a considerable following 
from Fairbank’s, when that house discovered 
they could not possibly elect their man, Blake. 
Roger, although receiving the support of his 
own house to the last man, was able to attract 
only a slight following from the determining 
factor, Fairbank’s, and in the end the vote 
stood : 

George Jennings Wade, Sixth Form, Grafton’s . 560 
Roger Jackson, Fifth Form, Murray’s .... 390 
John Dunn-Blake, Sixth Form, Fairbank’s . withdrawn 
Not voting 19 

The result was no disappointment to Roger. 
It had not been his desire to have his name 
placed on the nomination board, but the fellows 
of Murray’s house, from which no school cap- 
tain had come for some years, had been de- 
sirous of making a bid for premier honors, and 
the strongest man they could name was the 
American. The house voted solid, but the 
support from the other divisions was not suffi- 
cient, so George Jennings Wade was captain of 
Henley. 


CHAPTER IV 


A MIDNIGHT EXCURSION 

Young Berry, after leaving his man's den on 
the night of the school captain election, spent 
half an hour in earnest conversation with his 
chum, Tucker. At nine o'clock the junior 
dormitory bell sounded, and the two youngsters 
hastened to answer the call. 

Fifteen minutes later forty-three sprats were 
reclining quietly on their cots. Not a sound 
broke the stillness of the night. The full moon, 
a big, round ball of yellow, shone in through the 
open windows, making the room as light as 
day. 

Another fifteen minutes passed, and still 
only a snore here, or the mutter of some lad in 
his sleep disturbed the stillness. Then, Tucker, 
who was right-hand mate to young Berry, after 
a careful survey of the room, commenced to 
wriggle out of bed. 

Berry was awake, for he at once joined his 
chum, as the latter reached his cot, and without 
a word, the two youngsters removed their pa- 
jamas and stuffed several towels inside them. 


34 JACKSON AND HIS HENLEY FRIENDS 


They worked from the aisle between the cots, 
completely hidden from view, even if any of 
the tired lads had been looking for them. 

Presently their task was completed, and 
silently they each lay the stuffed night clothes 
upon the cots, covering them with a blanket. 
Then as swiftly and noiselessly they commenced 
to dress. Not a single word had either uttered. 
A nod or a push was their only means of com- 
munication. 

With a final hasty glance around the dor- 
mitory, the two lads crawled towards the far 
west window. There Tucker leaned down, and 
with familiar fingers brought out a coil of rope 
from his locker, a small wooden box, with which 
every Henley lad was provided in which to 
keep his private things. He leaned far out of 
the window, and slipping one end over an iron 
hook just under the sill, permitted the other to 
drop slowly groundward. Then he nodded to 
Berry, and the boy climbed nimbly out of the 
window, grasped the dangling rope, and went 
down hand over hand. 

It was a drop of only about twenty-five feet, 
and in another minute Tucker stood by his 
chum’s side on the gravel walk of the quad- 
rangle. The dangling rope was tucked out of 
sight behind an adjacent gutter spout, and 
would scarcely attract the attention of the 


A MIDNIGHT EXCURSION 


35 


night watchman as he passed on his 
rounds. 

A moment yet the lads lingered, and then 
they stole noiselessly up the driveway, keeping 
in the shadow of the buildings, well out of the 
moonlight, until they reached the shrubbery 
that decorated Doctor Proctor’s residence. In- 
to this they dived and were lost to sight. 

, They emerged five minutes later at the tall 
iron gates that separated the master’s garden 
from the high road. The lodgekeeper’s cottage 
looked silent and deserted in the brilliant moon- 
light. Old John had long since gone to bed. 
Back in the doctor’s house they could see a 
light burning on the second floor. 

“ Old Proctor’s in his study still,” whispered 
Tucker, hoarsely, as he climbed up the gates. 

He reached the top, and leaned back to help 
his chum up. Then the two jumped down into 
the road, and, sitting down on the grassy side 
bank, produced their shoes from their pockets, 
and put them on. 

“ Now, we’re all ready; come on, Straw,” 
urged Tucker, and at a sharp trot they ran off 
along the road. 

Behind them the old pile of Henley college 
lay dark in the brilliant moonlight. Here or 
there a light was visible from some late worker’s 
study. In front, towering high above them, lay 


36 JACKSON AND HIS HENLEY FRIENDS 

Lechampton Hill, the northern spur of the Cots- 
wold range. The road led them up steeply 
towards the hill, past the old “ King George ” 
tavern, and into the quarries. 

Neither lad spoke until they arrived there. 
Then they stopped again, and sat down to rest. 

“ Bully night,” observed Tucker, as he leaned 
forward to tie up his shoe string. 

“ You didn’t forget the candle and lantern, 
did you? ” demanded Berry. 

“ No, here it is,” and Tucker produced from 
his coat pocket a folding mica lantern. “ But 
I won’t fit it in until we get to the cave,” he 
added. 

Again they resumed their trot, but soon it 
slowed down to a walk, and then to a crawl, 
as the ascent became steeper and steeper. 

“ By Jinks,” panted Berry, as they paused on 
a narrow ledge half-way up the precipice, “ it 
certainly is a climb, eh, Tuck? ” 

“ It is that,” agreed his companion, “ but 
no one could ever find it; no one in all the 
world knows about it but you and me, Straw. 
We could stock it up with grub and tuck and 
pop and things and stay here for weeks if we 
wanted to.” 

“ Yes,” eagerly went on Berry, “ we’re like 
brigands — outlaws, you know, with a secret 
hiding-place in the mountains, and if we wanted 


A MIDNIGHT EXCURSION 


37 


to we could go to the cave any time and defy 
old Proct and everybody. It’s just such a place 
as 1 The Spanish Brigand ’ had at the top of the 
mountains in that story we read; come on, 
Tuck! ” 

“ We're jolly close to it now/' muttered 
Tucker. “ It's back of that clump of trees 
somewhere. Here, catch hold of my hand, 
and I'll swing you up — steady, here we 
are." 

They stood high up on a rocky ledge, clutch- 
ing to some mountain birch. Above them still 
towered the crest of the hill; below in the 
Arrow valley twinkled the lights of the town. 
The whole scene was bathed in the soft light 
of the glorious moon. Far off a little puffing 
locomotive was working its way along towards 
the city of Gloucester, eight miles to the west, 
and, looking almost right beneath them, the 
broad Arrow flowed in silver silence. It was a 
peaceful, soothing scene, and for a brief space 
the two youngsters stood drinking in its beauty. 

The sound of the school clock striking the 
hour of eleven aroused them. 

“ Come on," urged Berry, “ get the lantern 
ready and let's get in." 

His companion was in the act of striking a 
match, when Berry stopped him with a word of 
warning. 


38 JACKSON AND HIS HENLEY FRIENDS 


“ Don’t do it yet,” he advised, “ wait until 
we’re inside.” 

“ Where is the place? ” growled Tucker, still 
searching. “ Oh, here it is! Come on, Straw; 
I swear, a big chap couldn’t squeeze in 
here.” 

The lads wriggled in through the opening, and 
after a drop of about eight feet stood upright in 
the cave. The feeble light from the lantern, 
which they had lit, disclosed an aperture roofed 
with a great slab of rock about the size of a 
kitchen table, and through this the lads crawled 
with confidence born of familiarity. 

The sight inside would have been rather dis- 
concerting to a stranger. Huge boulders hung 
“ confused hurled ” overhead on all sides. Mas- 
sive monoliths of rock, tons heavy, apparently 
awaited a breath to topple over. The lads 
looked like pigmies in the midst of that gigantic 
scenery. The air seemingly was fresh, for the 
candle burned brightly. High on their left 
was a large fissure that receded into darkness. 
Without hesitation the youngsters clambered 
up this and into a tunnel, with just standing 
room for one. Then came a slight descent for 
a few feet. Along this they crawled, then turned 
sharply to the left, where the passage terminated 
in a large V shape with a small opening at the 
point. Through this they again squeezed, and 


A MIDNIGHT EXCURSION 


39 


after a drop of a yard stood in an almost cir- 
cular room. 

With the assurance of one who knows well 
the ropes, Tucker advanced, and hung his 
lantern upon one of the numerous stalactites 
that descended from the roof. Then he glanced 
around with the air of a conqueror, and de- 
manded of his companion: 

“ Say, isn’t it bully? ” 

“ Bet your life,” acquiesced Berry, as he 
stalked around, monarch of all he surveyed. 
“ Now then for the spread,” he added. 

His companion was already busy with a 
hamper that reposed in one corner, taking out 
from it an inviting collection of jam pots, pop 
bottles, and all that confectionery and pastry 
that delights the heart of the small British 
schoolboy. 

It was to enjoy this feast that the two 
youngsters had broken bounds and made the 
midnight excursion. The cave they had dis- 
covered by accident a few weeks before, and it 
had at once appealed to their love of adventure. 
It was mysterious; it was a secret, therefore 
it was “ fun.” There was the delicious risk of 
breaking bounds, and of getting away unseen 
from the dormitory; the knowledge that 
punishment would surely follow if their absence 
was discovered, and finally the inviting spread 


40 JACKSON AND HIS HENLEY FRIENDS 


when the cave was reached. More than a dozen 
times this term had the boys successfully made 
the climb and returned unseen and undetected 
by monitor or watchman. 

For an hour and a half they remained enjoying 
their stolen visit, and then Berry suggested: 

“ Say, Tuck, we had better be getting.” 

“ Rather expect we had,” reluctantly ad- 
mitted his chum. 

They carefully put away the remnants of the 
feast, climbed back to the entrance, extin- 
guished the light, and commenced the descent. 

In half an hour they were at the entrance to 
the college grounds again. They climbed the 
gate as they had before, and sneaked between 
the shrubbery along to the driveway beneath 
their dormitory window. 

Both lads removed their shoes again, and 
then Tucker whispered: 

“ You go first, Straw, and Fll steady the 
rope; then give me a leg up from the window 
when you get there.” 

“ Right you are,” softly responded his chum. 
Suddenly he stopped, mouth agape in horrified 
surprise. 

He took a step yet further in, felt frantically 
about the wall with inquiring fingers, then 
turned back, and whispered hoarsely: 

“ Say, Tuck, the rope’s gone! ” 


CHAPTER V 


BLACKMAIL 

Tucker sprang forward and searched fran- 
tically for the lost rope. He tugged at the ivy 
that covered the wall; he got to his knees and 
pawed about on the soft turf; he searched to 
right and left. Then he stepped back a few 
steps and gave vent to a low whistle of dismay. 

“ By Jinks, Straw, we’re nabbed,” he 
groaned. 

As if by common impulse, both lads crouched 
in the shelter of the wall, and waited, uncertain 
what next to do. 

The rope was gone! It followed, then, that 
some one must have removed it. “ The thing 
couldn’t have got off by itself,” as Berry whis- 
pered. Then some one had discovered their 
absence, and most likely they were even now 
being “ stalked.” 

The great school clock chimed solemnly 
twice. 

“ Two o’clock,” rasped Tucker. “ Say, 
Straw, we must get back; we may as well get 
nabbed getting back as staying here.” 


42 JACKSON AND HIS HENLEY FRIENDS 


“ How can we get back? ” demanded the 
scared Berry, glancing apprehensively upwards. 

For a moment or so Tucker hesitated, then, 
after a careful survey of the land, Tucker 
stepped out a pace or so from his place of con- 
cealment against the wall, and studied atten- 
tively the ivy-covered building. 

“ We’ll have to climb up that,” he whispered, 
pointing to the ivy. . “ I’ll try it first, and if I 
can make it I’ll tie my sheets together and help 
you up; you’re such an ass at climbing. Here 
goes! ” 

He vaulted lightly on to the lower window- 
sill, and grasped the ivy. It sagged and gave 
under his weight. Undismayed, he stuck his 
toes into the strongest looking mass, and 
reaching up his full height, drew himself up a 
foot. 

Carefully, slowly, he swarmed upwards, his 
chum watching his efforts with bated breath 
from the ground. 

It was slow work. Again and again it ap- 
peared he could go no further. Again and again 
the frail, sagging ivy threatened to give way 
beneath his weight, but still the desperate lad 
crawled upwards, until at last, with a final 
effort, he grasped the window-sill of the dor- 
mitory, and drew himself noiselessly up. 

He peered in through the open window. All 


BLACKMAIL 


43 


the occupants of the room lay apparently fast 
asleep. He crawled silently inside, and for a 
few minutes Berry was left in lonely solitude, 
a prey to his fears. 

Then his chum’s head appeared at the win- 
dow, and with a soft “ flop ” a twisted sheet 
dropped almost to the ground. 

The valiant Tucker had tied together the 
sheets of his own and Berry’s cot, and twisting 
his end about the iron hook outside, had made 
it fast. 

The waiting lad below wasted not a moment. 
He climbed to the lower sill, as Tucker had done, 
and with the aid of the rope and ivy, had but 
little difficulty in gaining the room above. 

Without a word the sheets were untied and 
replaced upon the cots. The youngsters un- 
dressed in hot haste and scrambled back into 
bed, perplexity and apprehension holding them 
frightened victims. 

They both dropped off to sleep sometime 
before the morning sun peeped into the long 
room, but their rest was troubled with dreams 
of caves and mountains and ropes, and once 
Berry imagined he was falling, falling, falling, 
and he awoke with a start and a cry of fear. 

“ Shut up, you idiot,” growled the boy on his 
left, sleepily, and the dream-tormented lad 
sank back again to uneasy slumber. 


44 JACKSON AND HIS HENLEY FRIENDS 

They both awoke at the usual bugle call 
next morning, and hurried to their respective 
men’s dens, to help with the breakfast. 

“ Why didn’t you get here in time for the 
pull up river? ” demanded Roger, as his fag’s 
face appeared in the doorway. 

“ My alarm didn’t go off, or else I didn’t hear 
it,” truthfully admitted the lad. 

“ You look as if you’re asleep now,” sug- 
gested the American. “ Did you take your tub 
this morning? ” 

“ No, I hadn’t time.” 

“ I thought so; you’d better cut and take a 
plunge now; you will feel off color all day unless 
you do; I’ll get my own breakfast.” 

Nothing loath, the fag departed on a run for 
the pool, emerging fifteen minutes later, looking 
as red as a young lobster. 

School hours that day appeared particularly 
long and arduous to both youngsters. They 
lived in a state of constant terror. Some one 
had taken that rope, and that some one might 
“ peach.” 

Excitement was running high that day both 
in the old town and the school, for two days 
hence an election for member of Parliament 
was to take place, and the boys, as usual, were 
intensely interested in the result. More than 
one hundred boys had obtained leave to attend 


BLACKMAIL 


45 


the final meeting held on the morrow, and in- 
tended to “ rip ” for Sir James Leigh, the Con- 
servative candidate. Even the anxiety that 
harassed them could not make the two sprats 
lose their interest in the result of the poll, and 
they had been two of the very first for whom 
passes had been signed. 

Roger Jackson took little or no interest in the 
exciting event. Politics was the only subject 
on which he and his chum, Dobson, disagreed, 
so they wisely avoided any reference to 
them. 

“ Say,” young Berry explained to his man, 
late that afternoon, “ Tucker and I and a lot 
of the chaps are going to town to-morrow after- 
noon to rip for old Leigh at his meeting. I’ve 
got excused from prep, and you won’t want me, 
will you? ” 

“No, you can go as far as I am concerned, 
but look out, kid, there’s an awful rough lot in 
town these days; you must steer clear of them, 
and be back again as soon as the meeting’s over; 
don’t hang around the town; come straight 
back to school, won’t you? ” 

“ Oh, Tuck and I’ll take care, you bet. 
There’s a whole crowd of us going, and some 
seniors, too,” responded the boy, as he darted 
away. 

He sought out his chum, who had also ob- 


46 JACKSON AND HIS HENLEY FRIENDS 


tained leave, and the two wandered out on the 
playing field, talking in low tones of the last 
night’s incident. 

“ We had better not go there any more, at 
least for a time,” suggested Berry. 

“ Well, we’d have to get another rope, any- 
way, before we could,” Tucker said. “ I hate 
to give up that cave; it was such a bully place, 
and it was rattling, sneaking off like that at 
night, with not a kid or any one knowing any- 
thing about it. We can wait for a few nights 
and see if anything turns up, and then if it 
doesn’t, we’ll get another rope. I’m not going 
to be scared out.” 

They were sauntering along arm in arm, 
Henley fashion, and had just reached the con- 
fines of the grounds, when they were ap- 
proached by a burly, rather seedy-looking man. 
The lads were passing him, when he stopped 
them with a loud : 

“ Good day to you, Misters Tucker and 
Berry.” 

Both youngsters stopped in surprise and 
looked at the fellow. 

“ Don’t be scared,” growled the man, with a 
leer. “ I just wants to ’ave a word or so with 
you; can you step houtside aw’ile? ” 

“ What do you want? ” inquired Tucker 
coolly. 


BLACKMAIL 


47 


“ I said I wants a word or so with you,” re- 
peated the fellow. 

11 Well, go ahead; you can say it here, can’t 
you? ” 

“ Maybe, you’d rather every one didn’t ’ear 
wot Hi ’ave to say,” suggested the stranger. 

“ How did you know our names? ” demanded 
Berry. 

“ That’s my business,” chuckled the fellow, 
with a knowing wink. 

There was something about the man’s man- 
ner and speech that made both lads uneasy. 

“ Best step outside and walk up and down a 
bit,” he insisted, and the boys followed him. 

“ Well, now, what is it? ” demanded Tucker, 
as they stopped well away from any listen- 
ers. 

“ Come on,” insisted the fellow, “ we can 
talk as we goes along.” 

“ We haven’t passes,” explained the young- 
sters, “ we can’t go in town.” 

“ ’Pears as you don’t always ’ave to ’ave 
passes when you goes out. Oh, I’m on to you 
young gents up at this school,” and the man 
laughed unpleasantly. 

“ But we have to,” insisted Tucker. 

“ In daytime, perhaps, but ’ow ’bout moon- 
night rambles? Wot is it the song says? ‘ A 
starry night for a ramble.’ — Oh, oh, that’s a 


48 JACKSON AND HIS HENLEY FRIENDS 


good ’un, ain’t it? ” and the fellow laughed 
boisterously at the two blanched faces of the 
lads. “ Oh, don’t you be uneasy,” he resumed, 
nudging Berry playfully in the ribs. “ I ain’t 
a-going to ’urt you; I just wants a square deal, 
that’s hall.” 

“ What do you want? ” whispered poor 
Berry, now thoroughly frightened. 

“ You’re really nice, ’andy boys now, ain’t 
you? ” went on the fellow, ignoring Berry’s 
question. “ Can climb like sailormen, can’t 
you? Never seen nothing to beat it afore.” 

The stranger produced, as he spoke, a yard 
of rope, and dangled it before the astonished 
lads’ eyes. 

“ Give it to me! ” shouted Tucker, making a 
grab for it. 

“ Not so fast, mister, not so fast,” growled 
the man, scowling, and tucking the rope back in 
his pocket. “ It’s a little keepsake. Hi’m 
collecting such like. Maybe the gaffer up to the 
school’ll like to look at it; guess I’ll take hit up 
and show it to ’im.” 

“ Don’t! Don’t! ” shouted both boys with 
one voice, now badly frightened. Their worst 
fears wer'e being realized ; their consciences were 
making cowards of them. 

The man laughed loudly. “ Well, I never, I 
never did,” he roared. 


BLACKMAIL 


49 


“ You stole that rope,” accused Tucker 
boldly; “ you stole it last night.” 

“ Well, wot if Hi did? ” growled the fellow. 

“ Give it back to us — all of it.” 

“ Wot was you both doing? ” persisted the 
man. “ Sheep stealing, I’ll warrant. By Gosh, 
that’s pretty close to a ’anging job, ain’t it, 
and you be so young, too. ’Twould be a pity, 
it would. Wonder wot the gaffer up to the 
school’ll say? ” 

“ Oh, don’t! Don’t! ” implored the lads 
again. 

“ Well, wot was you doing, then? ” 

“ It was only the cave,” whimpered 
Berry. 

“ Cave, cave? Maybe you be smugglers, 
then. That’s worse yet. Come, out with it. 
You best make a clean breast of it hall.” 

The two green lads were like clay in the 
rogue’s hands, and in ten minutes he knew all. 
He pretended to be vastly concerned. He shook 
his head and muttered to himself: 

“ It’s a bad job; sneaking hoff when all 
honest men is abed, like thieves; tut, tut, I 
reckons as ’tis me duty to go tell the gaffer. 
Hi’ll ’ave to do it, misters; Hi’ll ’ave to do it, 
Hi certainly will. Hi — ” 

“ Oh, don’t, don’t! ” implored both the lads, 
as they grasped the fellow’s coat in an effort to 


50 JACKSON AND HIS HENLEY FRIENDS 

detain him, for he was moving away, school- 
wards. 

He stopped as they importuned him, appar- 
ently relenting somewhat. 

“ Well, if Hi don’t, Hi’ll certainly ’ave to 
come in on the deal somehow; that’s only fair.” 

“ What is it? What do you want? ” cried 
Berry, seeing hope. 

“ ’Alves, I s’pose.” 

“ Halves, halves on what? ” 

“ See here,” the fellow growled, turning 
about like a man who has made up his mind to 
do some generous act. “ My duty is clear to 
go tell your gaffer up at the school, but you be 
both such kids that Hi ’ate to do it.” Here he 
grinned, and endeavored to look benevolent. 
“ Tell you wot Hi’ll do,” he suddenly ex- 
claimed, as if he had at last made up his mind. 
“ ’Ow much money ’ave you got? ” 

Berry dived down in his pocket instantly and 
produced three shillings and some coppers. 

“ I’m stumped,” explained Tucker. 

“ Won’t do,” growled the man, shaking his 
head. “ Hi’d ’ave to ’ave more than that or 
Hi’d feel like Hi’d ’ave to tell the governor.” 

“ I’ll give you my allowance next week when 
I get it,” promised Tucker fearfully, seeking to 
detain the tormentor. 

The man considered for some time, then: 


BLACKMAIL 


51 


“ Tell you wot Hi’ll do,” he suddenly repeated. 
“ You ’and over wot you’ve got now, and come 
hup with a quid apiece before the end of term, 
and we’ll call the thing square; there now, ain’t 
that ’andsome? ” 

“ Why, it would take all our tin, and we 
wouldn’t have a penny left! ” cried Berry. 

“ Well, just as you likes,” muttered the rogue, 
with a shrug of his shoulders, as he made a 
move as if to depart; “ only don’t say after- 
wards as Hi didn’t give you both a fair chance, 
that’s all.” 

“ Wait a minute! Wait a minute!” cried 
Berry; “ we’ll do it, won’t we, Tuck? ” 

“ Hit’s a hawful thing,” commented the man, 
as if talking to himself, “ hit sure his. Two 
young gents a-sneaking hoff hat dead o’ night, 
like thieves, and a-going to a cave, and a-’iding 
themselves there, and then a-sneaking back 
again. Many a good man’s gone to prison fur 
less than that. I suppose the gaffer, if Hi told 
’im, ’e’d just call a p’liceman, that’s hall, but 
Hi ’ate to see ’im do it. Well, well, I s’ppose 
Hi’ll ’ave to let you hoff. ’And hover wot you’ve 
got, and Hi’ll be hup ’ere of a Saturday to get 
your allowance, as you calls it. You each gets 
’alf a crown a week, you says. Hit’s awful 
little, but Hi reckons as Hi’ll ’ave to be easy 
with you, and let you down light.” 


52 JACKSON AND HIS HENLEY FRIENDS 


He pocketed the three shillings and sixpence, 
with a final warning. “ Don’t you forget now, 
hevery Saturday hat two o’clock. I’ll be hout- 
side ’ere, and you come hup with the ready, or 
Hi’ll trot hup to the governor and peach; I 
sure will,” and off he swaggered. 


CHAPTER VI 


THE RIOT 

The two lads stood gazing after him for a 
few moments in blank dismay and dejection. 
Their worst fears had been realized. All day 
they had been dreading an exposure, though 
from what quarter it would come they could 
not guess. Now the pit had opened beneath 
them. 

“ Who is he? ” groaned Berry, appealing to 
his chum. 

“ Hanged if I know. Some town chap, I 
suppose. But I don’t see how he got on to it.” 

“ That was our piece of rope, wasn’t it? ” 
queried Berry. 

“ You bet it was; I know that old piece well; 
it came off my box.” 

“ Well, he’s a cad, whoever he is; suppose he 
was sure off to peach on us to the doctor? ” 

“ Looked like it, but I think we’re all right 
now as long as we come up with the tin.” 

“ But how’d he find out? ” persisted Berry. 
“ What right had he in the grounds, I wonder, 
and he must have been in the place to have 


54 JACKSON AND HIS HENLEY FRIENDS 

taken the rope away. I told you we’d get nabbed 
sooner or later, scooting off like that of a night to 
the cave.” 

“ Well, it’s no use growling over it now,” 
manfully maintained Tucker. “ We’ve had the 
fun and took the chance, so I suppose we’ve 
got to face the music.” 

“ But what’re we going to do for tin if he 
takes it all? ” demanded Berry, in dismay, the 
prospect striking him with its full significance. 

As the two sprats talked together seriously, 
Jack Maxwell, the crack sprinter of the Murray 
fifth form, came along. 

“You two kids had better get inside the 
gates,” he warned; “ it’s against rules, loafing 
out here, you know. What were you talking to 
that chap for? ” he added. 

“ That chap? Who? We weren’t,” chattered 
Berry. 

“ Don’t you know who he is? ” continued the 
fifth form boy, who in his early days at Henley 
had been one of the fast set. “ His name’s Dut- 
ton, — ' Bunny ’ Dutton, — and he keeps one 
of the shady pool-rooms. You had best have 
nothing to do with him; take my tip.” 

The tall senior passed on, after giving the 
two youngsters this advice. 

That was a wretched evening for the two 
sprats, and not even the boisterous company 


THE RIOT 


55 


of their fellows could raise their spirits. Only 
the prospect of to-morrow's leave and outing in 
town, and the excitement of the election meeting 
made life liveable. Both went about their 
duties with dejected mien and listless interest, 
and studies suffered; but they were sufficiently 
recovered by next morning to make the effort 
to have passes signed for leave, and later in the 
day, in company with a dozen other sprats, 
made their way into town. 

Two hours later Roger opened the door of his 
den, and placing his hands to his mouth, yelled 
“ Berry! Berry! " Then waited for a response. 
“ Confound the kid, wonder where he can have 
gone to," he grumbled. 

“ You'll have to shout louder than that to 
reach him, Yank," advised Dobson, who ap- 
peared at that moment. 

“ Why, where is the beggar? I've hunted for 
him everywhere." 

“ Oh, he and a whole crowd of chaps have 
gone off to town on leave; it's election day to- 
morrow, you know, and Leigh is holding his 
final meeting. The fellows have gone to rip for 
him." 

“ Oh, that's so," said Roger. “ I forgot; he 
told me he was going. I wonder you haven't 
gone, too, old man." 

“ I was going, but — ” 


56 JACKSON AND HIS HENLEY FRIENDS 


A sudden interruption stopped the boy’s 
words. 

His fag, Tucker, burst in through the door- 
way. 

“ Oh, Dobson! ” he yelled, “ come on quick. 
I’ve been looking for you everywhere. Come 
on! Come on! ” 

“ What’s the row? ” demanded Dobson, 
wheeling about towards the excited junior. 
“ Why, what on earth’s the trouble; been in a 
fight or what? ” 

“ Come on, come on,” urged the half-crazed 
youngster; “ they’re killing our chaps. Come 
on quick! ” 

Dobson caught his fag by the shoulder. 

“ Tell me what’s up,” he demanded. “ Stop 
jumping about like a jackass and tell me.” 

“ It’s the meeting, you know,” panted the 
boy. “ We ripped for Leigh, and the roughs set 
on our fellows, and they’ve got ’em cornered 
in the market-place and they’re killing ’em — 
oh, come on, I say.” 

Without another word the two seniors grabbed 
up their mortar-boards, and headed by the fag, 
dashed from the room. Along the corridors 
they raced, down the broad stairs and through 
the hall and into the playing field, picking up a 
dozen other or more fellows as they ran with 
shouts of: “ Henley to the rescue! ” 


THE RIOT 


57 


“ Our chaps nabbed in town! Come on, you 
beggars,” yelled Roger, and at the head of a 
fast-increasing crowd, the two fifth form boys 
swung past the great iron gates and dashed off 
towards town. 

Little Tucker had been left far behind in the 
race, but his cries of: “ In the market-place,” 
still sounded to guide the rescuing party. 

It was the day before the parliamentary elec- 
tion, and Hamenchelt was in an uproar. Sir 
James Leigh, the Conservative candidate, and 
a Mr. Henry Tupper, a local man, were the 
rivals. Party feeling was running high, and 
somewhat ill-advisedly a large party of the 
boys had attended the last meeting of the Con- 
servative candidate, amongst them Berry and 
Tucker. It was young Tucker, who having 
made his escape from the melee, had rushed 
back to the school and brought word of the 
riot. 

The rescuing party had now small need of 
Tucker’s directions, for Jn the distance the 
shouts and cries of the combatants could be 
heard, mingled with the high screech of 
some fifes and the furious pounding of a 
drum. 

And now, as they tore townwards, the words 
of the Liberal election song were plainly borne 
to them on the wind: 


58 JACKSON AND HIS HENLEY FRIENDS 


“ Out of the road for old Dan Tupper, 

You’re too late to have any supper; 

Clear the road for the jolly old man! ” 

While high above the blare of brass instru- 
ments arose the screech of the Conservative 
fifes with: 

“ Hurrah for the Bonnets of Blue, 

Old Tupper is stuck in the glue; 

He’s kicking about and he can’t get out: 
Hurrah for the Bonnets of Blue! ” 

And then came shouts: “ Hack it through, 
Henley! Hack it through, sir! ” 

It was the football cry of the college, and it 
set every nerve of the racing boys tingling, as 
they tore madly to the rescue. 

“ Come on, you fellows! Come on! ” shouted 
Roger, as he led the wild rush. 

The wiry American was in the van, with 
Dobson and a good three dozen hot at his heels. 

Again came that shout: “ Hack it through, 
Henley! ” and then the cry was drowned by 
shouts and jeers mingled with hoots and yells of : 
“ Down with the kids! ” “ Smash the toffs! ” 
Then again came a confusion of curses and 
groans. 

A turn of the road, and the scene of battle 
lay before the rescuing party. The Henley 
town party was evidently fighting its way back 



Next moment they were in the thick of the fray. 
Page 59. 





THE RIOT 


59 


to school, beset on all sides by the roughs of the 
town. Stones were being freely used, and 
matters were looking very serious. 

“ School to the rescue! ” shouted Roger, as 
he tore along, and the boys behind him took up 
the cry: “ School to the rescue.” 

Next moment they were in the thick of the 
fray. A mob of angry toughs charged down 
upon the advancing schoolboys, endeavoring to 
prevent a union of the Henley forces. 

“ Mortarboards, give them the mortar- 
boards, chaps! ” yelled Roger, as he whipped 
his college square from his head, and struck 
out right and left, his followers instantly taking 
the cue. 

A mortarboard, when used correctly, forms 
a very effective weapon. The corners, though 
protected by rubber, are yet sufficiently sharp 
to inflict considerable damage, and with cuts 
and swings from these mortarboards, the two 
parties of schoolboys sought to effect a 
union; the crowd fighting savagely to prevent 
it. 

With a final charge, Roger’s boys and the 
returning ones effected a junction, and, turning 
about against the toughs, formed a solid front, 
the seniors making a fringe about the smaller 
lads, in an endeavor to protect them. The col- 
lege rallying cry sounded everywhere from the 


60 JACKSON AND HIS HENLEY FRIENDS 


hundred or more boys, as in a compact body 
they doggedly fought their way schoolward. 

Two prefects, Neuman and Price, who had 
been in town on duty, had hurried to the help 
of the hard-pressed Henleyites, and were now 
directing the retreat. They hailed the res- 
cuing contingent with shouts of joy. 

“ Here, Jackson, here! Look out for the 
tail; they’re trying to cut it off ! ” shouted Neu- 
man, as he espied the tall American fighting 
his way toward him at the head of his band. 
“ The sprats and minnows are bunched there! ” 

At that instant a high treble sounded above 
the din of battle: “ Down, here, down; Henley 
to the rescue! ” 

Instantly Roger was hewing his way towards 
that spot. Well he knew the voice. It was the 
cry of his fag, young Berry, and it sent every 
drop of fighting blood tingling through his veins. 
Like an avenging Nemesis he flew to the rescue. 
A foot behind him Dobson fought his way 
valiantly. The American lad, quick-witted and 
keen, was using his mortarboard in effective 
style, and the chunky Dobson, with clenched 
fists, was handing out jabs and swings im- 
partially. He was bare-headed; his cap had 
been knocked off earlier in the fray, and a little 
stream of crimson was trickling down over his 
face. 


THE RIOT 


61 


“ With you, Yank! ” he bellowed, as he 
warmed to his work. “Get into 'em; I’m 
with you, old boy! ” 

It was but the work of a short minute to 
reach the hard-pressed youngsters, and once 
there the two seniors soon cleared a space 
around themselves long enough to give the half 
dozen sprats and minnows time to scramble 
to their feet, all but one , one who lay very still, 
with closed eyes, amid the confusion of stum- 
bling feet. 

It was young Berry! 

“ You set of cads! ” yelled Roger, his face 
white with anger. “ Hold ’em off a minute, 
Dob!” and he swung the injured lad across 
his shoulders. 

Tommy Dobson needed no exhortation. 
Your true Anglo-Saxon dearly loves a fight, 
and although slower in getting into one than 
the other fellow, he is pretty apt to see the 
affair through, once he has started. 

The mob by which the schoolboys were sur- 
rounded was, however, in an ugly mood. The 
cheers of the lads for their candidate, their 
vigorous support of him, and the gibes and 
taunts they had hurled at the opposing one had 
wrought up the anger of the attackers to a 
high pitch. They were now almost beside 
themselves with fury, and seeing the lads cut 


62 JACKSON AND HIS HENLEY FRIENDS 


off, and apparently at their mercy, they at- 
tacked them furiously. 

“ Down with the toffs! Give it to the kids! ” 
their shouts rang out, as they pressed hard upon 
the cornered schoolboys, who, rallying under 
the leadership of Roger and Dobson, fought 
back gamely. The severed detachment con- 
sisted only of about eight or nine lower school- 
boys and the two seniors, while their assailants 
numbered many dozen. 

Hemmed in, the Henleyites were driven 
against a high brick wall that bordered one 
side of the market-place, where they gathered 
savagely at bay. Matters were looking rather 
serious for them, for the main body of their 
comrades had fought their way on up the High 
Street, and were now separated from them by 
a block or more, ignorant of the fact that their 
comrades were in such a tight place. Dobson, 
intent on nothing but giving back the best he 
was capable of, gave no thought to the general 
plan of battle, but the longer-headed American, 
realizing that it was impossible for his little 
band to get through without assistance, sud- 
denly let out an ear-splitting yell : 

“ Henley, Henley to the rescue! ” 

Almost instantly came the answer from far 
up the street. A voice commanded loudly: 
“ Steady, there, you fellows! ” 


THE RIOT 


63 


And then came a great shout: “ Hack it 
back, Henley, hack it back! ” 

The school was fighting its way back once 
more! 

The assailants, perceiving this movement, 
prepared to receive it, but at that moment a 
cry ran through the crowd: “ Police! Police! 
Look out for the bobbies! ” 

As if by magic the mob commenced to melt 
away, and in another minute a detachment of 
stalwart constables arrived on the scene at the 
double. The schoolboys picked themselves 
up from the fray, while in a few curt words the 
lieutenant in charge of the police ordered them 
back to the college. 

It was a pretty badly battered crowd that 
finally arrived at the gates, where the disabled 
ones made for the dispensary in search of 
plaster and lotion to heal the scars of battle. 

Young Berry soon recovered, but he had a 
nasty scalp wound, that necessitated his re- 
maining in the sick ward for two days. Mean- 
while the election had been decided, and Leigh 
had won , so he felt that his wounds had not 
been in vain, for Henley was firmly convinced 
in its own mind that it contributed in no small 
manner to the result. 


CHAPTER VII 


PLANS FOR THE FIELD DAY 

The weeks from Easter to mid-summer were 
busy ones for Roger. He and his chum Dobson, 
in company with thirty odd Henley lads of 
the fifth form, were grinding for the “ Oxford, 
Junior / 7 a national examination held in Sep- 
tember. 

He had just returned from an interview with 
Mr. Murray, in which the master had en- 
deavored to get at the bottom of the unfor- 
tunate election disturbance. Dobson and the 
two prefects had all been subject to the same 
examination, but Mr. Murray had soon come to 
the conclusion that the error lay rather in 
permitting the boys to go to town, than in the 
fight itself, and the matter was dropped, without 
sending it to Doctor Proctor. 

As Roger sat working in his den, he heard 
Berry’s footsteps outside, and a second later 
the fag entered. His head was still decorated 
by plaster, as a memento of the fight, but other- 
wise the lad was “ as good as new , 77 as Tucker 
said. 


PLANS FOR THE FIELD DAY 


65 


“ Say, Jackson,” he blurted out, as he shifted 
about uneasily first on one foot, then on the 
other. 

“ Well, what is it, kid? You look as if 
you’d swallowed a hot potato.” 

Berry hesitated a moment, then in a would-be 
offhand manner: “ Say, could you lend me 
five bob? ” he demanded. 

Roger looked up keenly. “ Sit down,” he 
invited. 

The youngster had evidently had hard work 
screwing up his courage to the asking point. 
His face was red as a frosty sun, as he sidled 
into a chair. 

“ You know,” he rattled on, “ I hate to ask 
you, but — but I — I rather need it, you know 
— I’m clean stumped.” 

“ That’s all right,” assured Roger, “ I’ll 
lend it you with pleasure, but look here, kid, 
take my advice and keep within your allowance. 
I don’t know what you want the crown for, or 
why you’re broke so early in the month, and I’m 
not going to preach at you. I’m just saying 
what I know your brother Bert would say if he 
were here, and that is: ‘ Don’t borrow.’ 
Shakespeare says the same thing, you know. 
His advice was: ‘ Neither a borrower nor a 
lender be/ ” 

“ Oh, it’s all right. If you don’t want to 


66 JACKSON AND JUS HENLEY FRIENDS 

lend it me, you needn’t,” flared up the fag, 
beginning to go. 

“ Sit down again,” ordered Roger curtly. “ I 
said I’d lend it to you, and here it is; you’re 
welcome to it. It isn’t that I mind letting you 
have it one bit, you know, — or you should 
know, — but I think a lot of your brother; he 
was a bully fine fellow to me when I fagged for 
him, and I hate to see his brother drop into a 
bad habit, that’s all; but if ever you want to 
borrow again, you’ll come to me, won’t you? 
Promise me that, Berry. Bert wouldn’t like his 
brother getting loans from any one.” 

“ Thanks,” muttered Berry, as he took the 
proffered silver. 

He gave his man an uneasy glance; stopped, 
as if about to say something, and then again 
made for the door. 

“ Hold hard! ” cried Roger. “ Come here a 
minute, George.” 

The junior hesitated, then returned. 

“ What is it? ” he demanded sulkily. 

Roger slipped his arm familiarly into his fag’s. 

“ Say, old chap, is everything all right? ” he 
inquired kindly. 

“ Everything all right? Yes! Why? Of 
course it is.” 

“ Because,” resumed the American, ignoring 
the assurance, “ if it isn’t, I want you to tell 


PLANS FOR THE FIELD DAY 


67 


me. I should stand by you, you know, no 
matter what the trouble was; I promised old 
Berry that.” 

“ Nothing’s the matter,” vehemently as- 
serted the junior. 

He fingered the coins together nervously as 
he spoke. 

“ You don’t smoke, do you? ” suddenly de- 
manded Roger. 

“ N — no — that is, never, scarcely; I did 
have a cig with Tuck, though, the other day — 
no harm in that, you know.” 

Roger glanced at the stained finger-tips. 

“ It’s a rotten bad habit,” he condemned, 
“ and you want to cut it out; take my tip. 
It ruins your wind and takes away your nerve.” 

“ I’m not going to smoke any more,” hastily 
disclaimed the fag. “ Nothing else you want 
me for to-night, is there? ” 

“ No. How about your prep; getting along 
all right? I’m ready to give you a leg up any 
time you’re stuck, you know.” 

“ Oh, I’m traveling all right. Tuck and I 
are swallowing irregular verbs like sharks, and 
we can take the ‘ Asses’ Bridge ’ in the dark,” 
cried the junior gleefully. “ Good night.” 

“ Good night,” responded Roger soberly. 

After Berry’s departure he sat for some time 
pondering. Then he aroused himself with an 


68 JACKSON AND HIS HENLEY FRIENDS 


effort and resumed his work. He turned over 
the leaves of his Greek fables idly for a few 
minutes. His thoughts were evidently some 
distance away. “ Well, this won’t do,” he 
muttered, commencing to apply himself again, 
“ but I wouldn’t — I wouldn’t have anything go 
wrong with that kid for worlds. It would cut 
up old Berry awfully.” 

He had been working less than half an hour, 
when the door was kicked open, and the bulky 
form of his chum Dobson appeared. 

“ Hello, old grinder! ” was his greeting. 
“ What a beggar you are for pegging. Look 
here, can you get this passage? I’ll swear I 
can’t make top or tail of it: ‘ The figure has 
had no stability; it — ’ ” 

“ Oh, it isn’t, you old duffer; it’s c The figure 
has no stability! ’ ” 

“ Well, I wish to goodness it had, then; 
I’m sick and tired of ‘ the figure;’ and it’s 
tommy-rot.” 

Dobson sat down. 

“ Think I’ll work in here awhile,” he an- 
nounced, and for an hour there was no sound 
but the scratch of pencil or a muttered ex- 
clamation. Then Dobson flung down his 
book, and tilted back in his chair, as he ex- 
claimed: 

“ I'm going to stop; hang the Oxford, Junior! 


PLANS FOR THE FIELD DAY 69 

Wonder if we're going to get through? " he 
soliloquized. 

“ Oh, I guess so. This Oxford isn't such an 
awful stickler, so Wade says, and he's been 
through. Remember that Preceptors' exam, 
Dob? What a big thing that seemed to us kids 
two years ago." 

“ Rather. And then you were fagging for 
Berry, and now his brother's fagging for you, 
and Tucker's brother doing duty to me; say, 
by the way, Tucker’s awfully thick with your 
kid; they stick together like glue, — regular 
David and Jonathan." 

“ That’s what they used to call you and me, 
Dob. But, say, is Tucker a decent chap? " 

“ Oh, I suppose he’s all right; he stuffs, 
though, just like his brother used to; suppose 
it runs in the family, eh? " 

“ Doesn't run wild at all, does he? " 

“ Well, I've had to call him down once or 
twice, and he was reported for rough behavior 
in town by spotters; I got him off, though. 
But, say, Yank, what I really dropped in to see 
you about this evening particularly was this 
Field Day; you know, it's right on us. I 
brought the map along. Wade gave it to me 
only a few minutes before I came in, and I 
thought you and I had better look it over to- 
gether. See, here it is." 


70 JACKSON AND HIS HENLEY FRIENDS 

Dobson spread the map out on the table, and 
the two chums commenced a careful examina- 
tion, Roger hurling his fables, with a relieved 
air, into a far corner of the room. 

“ Who sketched that map? ” demanded 
Roger, looking up. 

“ I did/ 7 admitted Dobson proudly. 

“ I thought so; well, it looks like a pretty 
tough place to take. Let’s hear the ‘ general 
idea/ Dob.” 

Out came Dobson’s notebook, and he began 
to read, in a business-like tone: 

“ The enemy (Red; Henley) are supposed to 
be the invaders. Having landed somewhere 
from the lower ‘ Arrow/ they have captured 
Bristol, Gloucester and other towns. The main 
force has struck out for London, but a strong 
body of the defenders (Burford; Blue) threaten- 
ing their left flank, they detached a mixed 
column of all arms, five hundred strong, to 
drive off defenders (Burford; Blue). 

“ The Defenders (Burford; Blue) have taken 
up a strong position on Cleeve Hill. The at- 
tackers (Henley; Red) are supposed to arrive 
in Hamenchelt early in the morning, and they 
are to capture the enemy’s position by four (4) 
o’clock, when ‘ cease fire ’ is sounded, or suffer 
defeat, it being supposed that by that time the 


PLANS FOR THE FIELD DAY 71 

defenders (Burford; Blue) will be reinforced 
by a strong reserve marching to their aid from 
the north.” 

“ Here’s the idea, old man,” pointed out Dob- 
son, again taking up the sketch. “ Burford’s 
chaps will leave their grounds sometime early 
in the morning, and get to their position before 
seven; they are three hundred and fifty strong; 
a hundred and fifty less than our force, because 
we have to attack. 

“ We are given a squadron of cavalry, — 
fifty, you know. A battalion of infantry (three 
hundred and fifty), and two batteries of ar- 
tillery, with eight guns. Companies B, C, D, E, 
and F will form the infantry battalion; Com- 
pany A, the cavalry; and G and H, the 
artillery.” 

“ What are you going to use for your can- 
nons? ” demanded Roger. He had not entered 
into the spirit of the game with the same vim 
as had Dobson, who, being prepared for the 
army, was naturally keenly interested. 

“ Well, of course,” admitted Dobson, “ they 
are only dummies, but they’re supposed to be 
machine guns, or screw guns — something that 
can be packed on mules’ backs, you know — 
and the sergeant has really secured some quite 
respectable-looking affairs; no end of fag for 


72 JACKSON AND HIS HENLEY FRIENDS 


us fellows to lug ’em along, I’ll promise you. 
The cavalry chaps are armed with singlesticks, 
and, of course, the infantry will carry the 
cadet corps guns — oh, I tell you, old chap, 
it’s going to be a ripping good Field Day. All 
communication between the colleges will cease 
at noon Tuesday. Old General Kerr, of Pres- 
bury Court, is to act as referee, and the umpires 
are the two sergeants of the schools. Wade 
has given me the artillery, you know, and he 
wants to know if you will handle the cavalry. 
That’s really what I dropped in to see you 
about. How about it, old man? ” 

“ Say, Dob, you know I have small knowl- 
edge of anything like this. He had better 
select another fellow; I shall only make a muff 
of it.” 

“ Not you, old chap. All Yanks are born 
soldiers, so my governor says. Besides, you can 
go the distance so jolly fine, and, you see, 
as the ‘ cavalry ’ have no horses, it’s necessary 
that they can foot it fast. Wade’s picked out 
the best long distance men in the school for that 
division; that’s why he’s asked you to com- 
mand.” 

“ Well, I’d like it awfully, but really, I’m 
afraid I’ll make a hash of it.” 

“ Oh, rot! Of course you won’t. It’s on, 
then. Now, this is Wade’s idea of attack. 


PLANS FOR THE FIELD DAY 


73 


It’s confidential, of course,” and then the 
enthusiastic Dobson proceeded to make his 
chum acquainted with the details of at- 
tack. 


CHAPTER VIII 


THE MARCH TO “ THE SUN ” 

When Roger awoke next morning to the 
usual Henley bugle call, he was as enthusiastic 
as any boy at the college. The day was a gen- 
eral holiday, and after breakfast the “ troops ” 
mustered on the playing field. Only the five 
hundred seniors were taking part in the ma- 
nceuver, but all scholars had a holiday, and most 
of the boys who were not taking part were 
prepared to follow afoot as spectators, strict 
instructions being given them to “ keep off the 
firing line.” 

The morning was cloudy, but gave promise 
of becoming clearer as the day advanced. 
General Wade, with his aide-de-camp, and 
attended by his second in command, made a 
careful inspection of his troops. 

While he was looking over the “ guns,” the 
squadron of cavalry, composed of the fastest 
boys in the college, and in command of Roger 
Jackson, wheeled and trotted off the ground, 
and a few minutes later the whole infantry 
force, with the exception of one company, set 


THE MARCH TO “ THE SUN 


75 


off at a swinging pace, marching in easy for- 
mation. Securely strapped to the back of each 
fellow was a knapsack with a full day's rations. 
With this exception, the force marched in light 
order. 

Doctor Proctor and most of the resident 
masters came out to witness the march off, while 
two umpires prepared to accompany the differ- 
ent divisions. 

Scarcely had the tramp of the departing 
infantry died away, when the order to “ limber 
up ” was given the waiting artillery, and with 
the company of infantry as guard, the main 
body of the men on the drag ropes, the right 
arm of the service, Colonel Dobson in command, 
moved smartly away. 

The worthy French master, M. St. Leslie, 
was enthusiastic, and prepared at once to follow 
the fortunes of his school. 

“ It iss de gr-r-rand! ” he exclaimed. “ I, 
too, have serve de army four year." 

There were as yet few people abroad. The 
little town was quickly left behind, and at an 
easy jog-trot the two batteries, with their 
infantry escort, proceeded along the Presbury 
road. 

“ This is something like! ” exclaimed the 
enthusiastic Dobson to his second officer, 
Andrew Cossock, as he watched with pride his 


76 JACKSON AND HIS HENLEY FRIENDS 


eight guns and gallant troopers on the march. 
“ Say, Cossock, old man, don’t they look 
bully? ” 

“ Fine,” admitted Cossock. 

Dobson’s command soon caught up with the 
battalion of infantry, when the pace was 
slowed down to three miles an hour. At 
“ Kerr’s Court ” a halt was made and the men 
rested. 

Before them, two miles away, loomed the 
big hill — an ideal position for any troops 
to defend. The halt was of short dura- 
tion. 

Down the “ Spring Lane,” with a whirl and 
a clatter, came a troop of “ horse.” They 
wheeled into the Presbury Road and pulled up 
at General Wade’s headquarters. 

“ Felt the enemy, sir, and drew their fire; 
left one man behind prisoner,” smartly re- 
ported Captain Jackson to his superior. 

There was a conference between the Henley 
leaders. 

“ Following orders, sir,” continued Roger, 
“ I pushed up the Spring Lane and got in touch 
with the enemy on his left flank. I reached the 
high ground unobserved, where I counted two 
parties, each with a gun. The enemy shortly 
saw me, and shelled at a thousand yards, when 
I was waved back by the umpire, the enemy 


THE MARCH TO “ THE SUN ” 


77 


pursuing with cavalry. Trooper Billings was 
overtaken and captured.” 

There was ten minutes of delay while this 
report was talked over. Then the officers of 
Henley again assumed position at the head of 
their troops, and the whole force broke up into 
two divisions. 

One strong brigade, with Enfield in command, 
fell into column, and commenced to slowly 
ascend the lane. Dobson was ordered to de- 
tach two guns and twenty-five men under 
Cossock to accompany this force. Then Gen- 
eral Wade, with Roger and his “ cavalry,” and 
a battery and a half under Dobson, started off 
along the Winchcombe road. 

“ Eight-forty-three,” observed Wade, glan- 
cing at his watch. 

The sun was just beginning to climb through 
the banks of clouds. The day promised to be 
fine. 

“ Now, see here,” continued Wade, as he and 
Roger and Dobson tramped briskly along, 
“ Enfield and Cossock are going to climb that 
lane slowly, extending themselves, as they get 
up, into the meadows on either side. Then 
they’ll commence to pepper the enemy; he’s 
pretty well all there, I think, and I want him to 
get the idea that the main blow is being put 
in there, twig? Meanwhile, we’re pushing on 


78 JACKSON AND HIS HENLEY FRIENDS 


as hard as we can go for 1 The Sun ’ — that 
tavern; you know it, Dobson, high up at the 
other end of the hill. If we can get there without 
being seen, we’ll have a bully position on the 
enemy’s right flank. We must be there at one- 
thirty. That will give us half an hour in which 
to rest after the climb, and at two o’clock En- 
field and Cossock have orders to ram home their 
attack. We’ll make ours at the same time, and 
between us we should crumple up the Burford 
chaps.” 

“ It’s a jolly long tramp,” warned Dobson. 
“ ‘ The Sun ’ must be seven miles at least, you 
know.” 

“ Well, we’ve five hours and fifteen min- 
utes in which to do it,” Roger said, with 
the assurance of an old cross-country 
man. 

“ It looks long enough,” Wade observed, 
“ but it’s no fun lugging these guns along. It 
would be all easy and fine if we could take the 
road, but of course, they’d spot us there at 
once. We’ll have to stick on this road until we 
strike the lane lower down, arid then wheel 
right and get along over that footpath that 
runs through the meadows up to ' The Sun.’ 
Jackson, you fling out a fringe of men to guard 
against any surprise, and the rest of us will get 
on the drag-ropes and tow the guns along. See, 


THE MARCH TO “ THE SUN 


79 


here’s how the lane goes, and the position things 
should be in at two o’clock.” 

Drawing a little, roughly made sketch from 
his pocket, “ the general ” handed it over to 
his two officers, who studied it closely. 

“ Now, then, get back to your commands,” 
ordered Wade, and Roger and his chum 
assumed positions at the head of their 
men. 

It was against collar all the way, with the 
men on the ropes, and Roger’s cavalry sweeping 
the fields before them on either side in sys- 
tematic search. Two miles an hour was about 
the best the lads could make, encumbered, as 
they were, with the “ guns,” and as the little 
path wound its way nearer and nearer the hill, 
and the ascent became stiffer and stiffer, it 
became difficult work to maintain even that 
rate. 

Shortly after nine o’clock a scout came 
running back, and reported. 

“ Captain Jackson orders me to state that 
enemy are observed on the left crest of hill; 
right flank appears to be unoccupied.” 

Wade nodded. “ I thought so,” he observed 
to Dobson. 

“ I rather fancy your plan is working out 
all right,” chuckled his companion. “ They 
haven’t thought of us making this forced 


80 JACKSON AND HIS HENLEY FRIENDS 

march, eh? And I suppose they think their 
right’s safe from attack.” 

“ The great thing is to get to our position on 
their right flank by two — or, at least, we 
should be there at one-thirty, in time to get a 
rest. Once we are there, we have them caught 
between two fires, and all we have to do is to 
crush ’em.” 

“ No danger of them assuming the offensive 
and coming down to attack us, is there? ” 
queried Dobson. 

“ Not they. They’d be fools if they did. 
They have a rattling good position where they 
are, and I saw at once we couldn’t dislodge them 
by a frontal attack, and our game was to out- 
flank them.” 

“ Well, if they do make any movement, 
Yank’ll tell us; he’s a spanker to have out in 
front.” 

At eleven the column had covered half the 
distance, and a short halt was made to give the 
boys a chance to get their second wind. 

The stiffest part of the work lay yet before 
them. The rise commenced to be most difficult. 
Officers and men alike sweated and panted as 
they dragged along the guns in short shifts. 
Roger and his men were keeping a splendid 
screen and carefully watching for the first sign 
of discovery. The movement so far appar- 


THE MARCH TO “ THE SUN ” 


81 


ently was undetected. If the enemy knew it, 
he was lying low. 

At noon a mile of hill work lay between them 
and their destination, and exactly at one- 
thirty-seven, panting and rather exhausted, 
the column at last crowned the ridge back of 
“ The Sun.” 

“ Now, you fellows,” advised General Wade, 
as he went about amongst his men, “ drink 
water if you must, but keep away from the 
tavern and its pop and lemonade; they kill 
your wind. Lie around easy; you’ll want all 
there is in you soon. You’ve twenty minutes 
in which to pull yourselves together. Stand 
easy, all! ” 

“ Stand at ease! ” repeated Dobson, and the 
exhausted lads lay down to rest. 


CHAPTER IX 


THE FIGHT FOR THE HILL 

Meanwhile Enfield and Cossock, with their 
infantry and two guns, had quickly established 
themselves along Spring Lane, and opened 
fire upon the enemy. 

The lane was well concealed by heavy banks 
and hedges, and as the Burford fellows remained 
under cover at the summit, a long-drawn-out 
and heavy fire continued from both sides. 
Gradually, however, as the Henley boys pushed 
home their attack up the steep lane, the enemy 
brought more and more men upon the scene 
of action, until at last their whole battery of 
four guns and the main body of the force was 
opposed to the advancing Henleyites. 

Hotter and hotter became the fire from both 
sides. Closer and eloser in, with persistent 
little rushes, pushed Enfield and Cossock with 
their men. It was pretty work to watch them. 
From behind a hedge would come a volley, 
and then a rush of a score of red-coated boys, 
making for the next cover, where they would 
lie down under shelter, until those on their 


THE FIGHT FOR THE HILL 


83 


right or left had dashed past them in like tac- 
tics. 

It was impossible, however, for the weaker 
column of Henley to hold out, or even maintain 
their position forever against the now greatly 
superior force of the Burford fellows, who, 
snugly hid behind hillock or hedge, wall or 
ditch, held a great advantage over the at- 
tackers. At eleven-forty-three the umpire-in- 
charge waved back the Henleyites. 

“ Fall back! ” obediently came the order 
from Enfield and Cossock, and doggedly, slowly, 
their men began to retreat, a cloud of skir- 
mishers following them up. This line was sup- 
ported by a large detachment from the main 
force on the hill. Pursued thus, Enfield gave 
the order to stand behind every cover, and fight 
every inch of the retreat; but determining, if 
possible, that the retreat should become a rout, 
the Burford commander brought his cavalry 
into action and from far up the lane sounded 
the “ Charge! ” 

This opened a serious position for Enfield. 
His troops were rather out of hand, as he had 
extended them along the lane and over several 
fields. His two guns were in the lane, with only 
a small squad of boys to serve them. 

“ Look out there, Cossock! ” yelled the 
Henley general, as he noticed the manoeuver, 


84 JACKSON AND HIS HENLEY FRIENDS 


u they’re coming down on our front and left 
flank with the horse. Get the boys together! ” 

Cossock gave the Henley rally, but before he 
could get his men in hand, the charging Burford 
men were almost upon him. 

“ Back! Back! ” signaled the umpire, and 
there was nothing for it but to run. 

“ Get the guns out! ” shouted Cossock, 
throwing off his coat and working like a good 
one. 

Splendidly the boys rallied to his call. 
Madly, desperately, they strove to get away the 
two pieces of artillery. The lane was muddy 
and full of ruts. One of the pieces became 
lodged in a gully, and despite the heroic efforts 
of its gunners, had to be abandoned. 

With yells of triumph, the enemy swooped 
down upon it, and the Henley fellows fled in 
confusion. Pushing their advantage to the 
limit, the Burford horsemen drove the Hen- 
leyites down the lane and across the fields, but 
here they met with stout opposition from a 
company of determined fellows, with the re- 
maining gun, which they had succeeded in 
masking behind a stone wall. 

Made confident by their sweeping victory, 
the Burford boys dashed down upon the gallant 
band, determined to wipe them out and take 
that gun. But the fighting blood of the Henley 


THE FIGHT FOR THE HILL 


85 


boys was up, and an exhibition of a masterly 
retreat followed. 

Working like dogs, they would stick to their 
gun until the very last moment of safety, then, 
dragging it off at a galloping speed, take up 
another position. Again and again they pur- 
sued these tactics, gathering around them 
the scattered force of Enfield as they re- 
treated. 

“ Rally! Rally! ” the Henley bugle rang out, 
and from all parts of the battle-field came 
dashing their comrades. 

“ Form squares! Prepare for cavalry!” 
shouted General Enfield, as a bit of open ground 
was reached, and with the readiness that long 
drill and preparation always ensures, the lads 
dropped into formation, and formed their 
squares around that last gun. 

Across the open ground came the cavalry at 
a dash. There was a clash, and then a fierce 
hand-to-hand struggle. For two or three 
minutes it looked as if the Burford men would 
complete their victory, but gradually the tide 
of battle changed, and then, with fourteen of 
their number prisoners in Henley’s hands, the 
rest were sent scampering back to the cover of 
the hill. 

The Henley lines were re-formed, the ad- 
vance again commenced, and the lost gun was 


86 JACKSON AND HIS HENLEY FRIENDS 


recovered. A new position was taken up three 
hundred yards up the lane. 

“ Hang tight! ” shouted General Enfield, as 
he dashed about among his men. “ Pepper ’em, 
boys; pepper ’em! ” And then the long fight 
up the lane recommenced. 

So engrossed in repelling the attack of En- 
field and Cossock had the Burford general 
become, that he had given small attention to 
his right flank, and it was not until his second 
in command drew his attention to the fact that 
no cavalry were being employed against him 
and that only two field pieces were in action, 
that he realized he was dealing with only a 
partial attack. 

“ You take care of this end,” he commanded, 
and then, taking an escort of a dozen fast men, 
he dashed along the front of the hill. 

“ Don’t see any signs of the beggars,” he 
muttered. “ Think they must all be in the 
lane lower down; may as well go through to the 
right and make sure, I suppose.” 

In another fifteen minutes he reached the 
crest on his extreme right. A rapid survey of 
the valley below him caused him to give vent 
to a long-drawn-out whistle of surprise. 

There, right below him, toiling slowly up 
the steep ascent, was Wade’s column, with 
Jackson’s men fringed out in front and flanks, 


THE FIGHT FOR THE HILL 


87 


and Dobson in the center with the six 
guns. 

“ Six guns, by Jinks, and all their cavalry! ” 
he ejaculated. “ Come on, boys! ” 

The httle party wheeled and dashed away at 
top speed for their main position on the 
right. 

“ Order those four guns up here and let me 
have all the cavalry! ” shouted the Burford 
commander to his second. “ IT1 take charge. 
You stay here and hold those fellows off with 
your infantry.” 

As quickly as they could be extricated, the 
guns were brought up, and then cavalry and 
artillery went racing away at a clipping pace 
over the flat tableland towards the threatened 
point. They made a splendid spectacle as they 
tore along, straining every nerve to get to the 
right in time to prevent their opponents from 
gaining the high land first. 

Enfield and Cossock were not slow to observe 
the hasty departure of half their foe, and at 
once they knew the cause. Their chief was 
ramming home the right flank attack, and 
Burford’s chaps were racing to repel it. 

Now was their opportunity! Now or never! 
They had three hundred infantry with two 
guns. Above them, well concealed on the 
heights, was half that number of the foe. They 


88 JACKSON AND HIS HENLEY FRIENDS 

outnumbered them two to one. Now was 
the moment to push home the attack! 

Leading their men forward at the double in 
short rushes, they succeeded, in spite of the 
heavy fire poured upon them, in establishing 
themselves on the nearest spur. There, under 
cover, they halted for a brief space. 

Enfield glanced at his watch. It was six 
minutes to two! 

Far away in the distance on the Burford 
right, he almost fancied he could hear the din 
of battle. Yes, surely there was the Henley 
battle cry! “ Hack it through, Henley! Hack 
it through, sir! ” 

A moment he stood attentively listening. 

Now it came to him again : “ Hack it through, 
sir, hack it through,” and then, quite clear, a 
bugle call. 

His commander had gained the ridge! The 
right crest was theirs! 

Enfield sprang from shelter, whipping his 
singlestick from his belt. 

“ Fix bayonets! Charge! ” he yelled. 

“ Fix bayonets! Charge! ” echoed Cossock. 

Like one man, the fellows behind him leaped 
to their feet. The guns were left behind. With 
a yell and a whoop, the whole three hundred 
Henleyites surged up to their foe. One com- 
pany cleared the right flank, another the 


THE FIGHT FOR THE HILL 


89 


left, and the remaining two shattered the 
center. 

Splendidly the outnumbered Burford lads 
met the attack, fighting desperately to maintain 
their position, but outflanked, cut in two, their 
ranks were broken and they were swept away 
before the rush of the Henleyites. Here and 
there little bands fought on gamely, with their 
singlesticks or guns, but in ten minutes’ hard 
fighting the last of them were driven over the 
hill pell-mell into the vale below, while the 
victorious infantry of Henley swept on to join 
hands with their commander on the other end 
of the hill. 

They caught the Burford cavalry and guns 
between them in a hopeless position, and 
realizing that he was trapped, the Burford com- 
mander determined to die hard. Forming his 
men under cover of the old Roman camp on the 
tableland, he gallantly met the attack from 
both sides, and for fifteen minutes held his 
position, then, noticing the umpire approaching, 
and guessing only too well his mission, he 
ordered the white flag to be hoisted. 

A handkerchief was tied to a singlestick and 
waved aloft. 

A terrific cheer went up from the Henley 
forces, and then General Wade, attended by his 
two officers, Dobson and Roger, came forward 


90 JACKSON AND HIS HENLEY FRIENDS 


to meet his defeated rival, who, bowing, 
offered his sword. 

“ No, I won't take it," declined Wade. 
“ You made jolly good use of it; keep it, old 
man." 

The rival generals clasped hands. 

“ And, say," added Wade, as he introduced 
his officers in turn, “ on behalf of the Henley 
fellows, I invite you and your chaps to a spread 
in our rooms. Half your fellows are down the 
valley now," he remarked, with a smile, re- 
ferring to the division Enfield had driven off, 
“ so let's make one party together as far as our 
grounds; then you can return to Burford by 
train this evening." 

“ Jolly kind, I'm sure," accepted the Burford 
general. 

And so the two “ enemies " returned to- 
gether to the sleepy old town of Hamenchelt, 
while the referee and umpires pointed out to 
the officers their errors, and showed them 
plainly what bad judgment they had all used, 
and how if they had only done this or that how 
different would have been the results. 

“ But there's only one fellow I wish to com- 
pliment," grimly observed old General Kerr, 
glancing at Roger, “ and that's this young 
chap. The way he handled his cavalry showed 
he understood his business; I rarely saw kept 


THE FIGHT FOR THE HILL 


91 


a better screen. The manner in which he swept 
the country during his chiefs’ flank march does 
him credit.” 

“ Thank you, sir,” responded Roger. “ We 
all did our best, I’m sure.” 

“ Without doubt,” grumbled the old soldier, 
“ but it was a thundering poor one at times.” 


CHAPTER X 


CAPTAIN DOBBS HAILS MR. DUTTON 

The memories of that famous Field Day were 
soon forgotten and swallowed up in the interest 
aroused by the fast-approaching summer holi- 
days and “ break-up.” July 15 was the term 
end for Henley. 

It had now been accepted as a settled event 
that Roger should accompany his chum, Tommy 
Dobson, to the latter’s home at Hatherly 
Court in North Wales, but this summer Sir 
Henry and his wife had gone to the Riviera, 
for the benefit of Lady Dobson’s health. Dob- 
son’s two elder brothers, the major and Captain 
Archie, were both in India with their regiments, 
so Hatherly Court was in charge of the servants. 

Sir Henry had written from the south of 
France, suggesting that his son and Roger 
spend a week or so touring the Somersetshire 
and Devon coast, even going as far as Land’s 
End in Cornwall, if they wished to, and then 
making a short trip to Hatherly Court at the 
conclusion of the holidays. 

“ By Jinks, a good idea, eh, Yank? ” de- 


CAPTAIN DOBBS HAILS MR. DUTTON 93 


manded Dobson, as he read the letter to his 
chum. 

“ Bully,” acquiesced Roger; “ Fd like to do 
it awfully. Have you ever been down that way, 
Dob? ” 

“ Not since I was a six-year-old kid in charge 
of a nurse,” admitted Dobson, “ and of course,” 
he added, “ I can’t remember much about it. 
It’s a go, then, eh, Yank? ” 

“ You’re on, old man.” 

Mr. Murray, their house master, who was a 
Devon man, and to whom the chums confided 
their intentions, gave them letters of intro- 
duction to his people at Bideford, and also 
loaned them a minute map, showing all roads 
and lanes. 

“You will have a splendid holiday,” he as- 
sured them, “ for really, I consider that for 
historic interest as well as natural beauty the 
‘ shires of the Sea Kings ’ have no equal; but, 
then, you know,” he added laughingly, “ I’m 
a Devon man, so perhaps I’m prejudiced. No 
place like home, you know, boys.” 

The lads proposed to do the country awheel. 

“ You can cover the ground so much quicker,” 
argued Dobson, “ and that gives you more 
time to stop at places where you wish to.” 

“ The roads are good, I suppose? ” queried 
his chum. 


94 JACKSON AND HIS HENLEY FRIENDS 


“ Oh, yes, they’re all right, but hilly, of 
course.” 

“ We’ll leave the morning of the sixteenth, 
I vote; let’s stay here until after break-up.” 

“ Certs. It would be too late to start that 
day, anyway. Only five more days, Yank.” 

“ I know, but I’m going to take my algebra 
and Euclid along with me, Dob; they’re my 
weak spots, and I mean to get through this 
Oxford next term. Are you going to grind at 
all this holiday? ” 

“ Bet your life; I’m all behind with my 
Greek as usual.” 

“ Say,” observed Roger, suddenly changing 
the subject, “ I can’t think what’s the trouble 
with young Berry; the kid doesn’t seem him- 
self at all of late.” 

“ No? ” questioned Dobson, looking up 
quickly. “ Now that’s odd, for my kid, Tucker, 
is looking beastly seedy, too. I’ve noticed it 
for some time. I believe the beggar smokes. 
Does Berry? ” 

“ I know he did, but I don’t think he does 
now; I jumped on him for it, and he promised 
to quit.” 

“ Oh, well, I suppose it’s a change they want 
— both of them. The holidays will put them 
all right, I’ll bet.” 

“ I hope so, I’m sure. Now let’s get that map 


CAPTAIN DOBBS HAILS MR. DUTTON 95 

and mark out our stops for the holidays, 
Dob.” 

“ All serene, here you are,” and the chums 
became engrossed in pleasurable anticipations. 

The remaining days passed quickly, and the 
day of the great break-up arrived. As usual 
there was a crowd of the boys’ people down to 
hear the awards made. Neither Roger nor 
Dobson had any one there, however, the 
American’s father being far away in Upper 
India, and the genial Sir Henry and his wife 
in the south of France. Berry’s mother, how- 
ever, came to help swell the gathering, and so 
did Maxwell’s, bringing her two daughters 
with her. 

“ Hello, here we are again,” cried Maxwell, 
as he escorted his relatives towards Roger and 
Dobson on that great morning. “ Can’t lose 
’em, you see.” 

There was a hearty greeting as the visitors 
and schoolboys renewed acquaintance, and then 
young Berry came mooning along in company 
with his mother and sister, and there was more 
handshaking. 

“ Why, what’s the trouble, George? ” in- 
quired Roger. “ You’re not looking as if this 
were Speech Day.” 

“ I think George is rather unwell,” explained 
Mrs. Berry. “ tie has been working too hard, I 


96 JACKSON AND HIS HENLEY FRIENDS 


think, and yet he tells me he is not going to 
pass into the fourth form, as we hoped he would; 
he has to remain in the same class until Christ- 
mas; he has failed in three of his studies.” 

“ Percy’s in the same boat,” complained 
Tucker, primus, who came strolling along at 
that moment, with his young brother in tow. 
“ He has to stick with the sprats for the coming 
half, too.” 

Both juniors looked uncomfortable, Tucker 
endeavoring to carry off the setback with a 
swagger, as he explained: 

“ Oh, well, you know, there’s lots of beggars 
left with us, and we’ll make up for it next term, 
won’t we, Straw, — I mean, Berry? ” 

“ I suppose so,” muttered his chum. 

The party drifted their different ways, and it 
was not until after the exercises were over that 
Tucker obtained an opportunity to speak to his 
chum in private. 

“ Say, Straw,” he whispered fearfully, “ that 
beggar’s been up here again. He nabbed me 
as I was going across the field, and he says that 
if we don’t come up with half a sov each he’ll 
peach on us to the doctor before we get away 
to-day. Got any tin? ” 

“ Only two and a kick,” groaned poor Berry, 
looking very wretched. “ He cleans me out 
every Saturday; he knows I haven’t half a sov.” 


CAPTAIN DOBBS HAILS MR. DUTTON 97 


“ I know. He said so, but he said if we don’t 
borrow it, he’ll sure tell to-day. Can’t you get 
it from Jackson or your mater? I’m going 
to try to get my brother or Dobson to stump 
up for me; we have to, hang it! ” 

“ I’ll — I’ll try,” groaned Berry, “ but I do 
hate like thunder to do it. I dare not ask the 
mater again; I got an advance of half a sov only 
last month. I’ll have to try Jackson, I suppose, 
but I owe him seven and six already. He’ll 
lend it to me, I know, but he’ll want to know 
what for and all that sort of thing; he always 
does. I believe he thinks something’s up. 
I — I, oh, I wish we’d never found that beast 
of a cave.” 

“ Well, it’s no use howling now. The thing 
to do is to get the tin. Go ahead and try, and 
meet me here at five. He’s going to be outside 
just after.” 

Moodily Berry turned on his heels and went 
in quest of the money. He evidently obtained 
it, for a few minutes after the school clock had 
chimed five, two dejected-looking youngsters 
were talking in low tones to a burly-looking man 
without the college confines. There was a 
short conference, and then some silver passed 
from the lads to the stranger, who nodded in 
surly fashion, and turning on his heels, made his 
way back towards town. 


98 JACKSON AND HIS HENLEY FRIENDS 


There was another figure standing by; a 
burly man, like the stranger, but with a very 
different look in his fearless gray eyes. Neither 
of the lads noticed him, for he was sitting on a 
bench, smoking a short clay pipe, hid from their 
viewT>y a giant elm. 

He jumped to his feet with alacrity, as the 
boys turned in by the gates, and followed the 
blackmailer along the road townwards, his 
hands stuck deep into the pockets of his pea 
jacket. His gait was a rolling one, like one 
accustomed to the heaving deck of a ship, but 
he covered the distance rapidly, and in a few 
minutes caught up with the object of his chase. 

His hand came down with a crash on Mr. 
Dutton’s shoulders, as he demanded in tones 
loud enough to be heard blocks away : 

“ Hullo, Mister Dutton, what be ye a-doin’ 
on this tack? Didn’t know you was interested 
in the education o’ the young.” 

“ Mister Dutton ” wheeled about, with a 
start and an oath, then, observing who was his 
saluter, he changed his tone. 

“ Well, I swear, Captain Dobbs,” he greeted, 
“ you gave me a start; what’d you come creep- 
ing hup hon a chap like that fur? ” 

“ It weren’t I as was creeping; I come ’long 
all canvas drawing and me lights a-showing, 
but you was so busy countin’ yer passage 


CAPTAIN DOBBS HAILS MR. DUTTON 99 


money, reckon you didn’t see me on yer star- 
board. Guess we’ll be shipmates inter town; 
I’m headin’ that way, too.” 

Mr. Dutton gave the old tar a searching 
look, and then growled: “ All right; s’pose 
I can stand your company.” 

“ You’ve shipped with worse men,” chuckled 
the captain. And side by side the two walked 
towards the town. 


CHAPTER XI 


A CLOSE CALL FOR DOBSON 

Young Berry and Tucker both left for home 
two hours after their interview with Dutton, 
but Roger and his chum remained at the col- 
lege overnight. 

They planned to start, weather permitting, 
soon after six next morning. Their wheels were 
all ready, and the route marked out. Their 
first day’s stop was to be at Bristol. Then to 
Weston, and on through Burnham and Mine- 
head to Ilfracombe, from which place they 
would visit Bideford, Westward Ho and Barn- 
staple, and then, following the coast, run down 
into Cornwall to Penzance and Land’s End, 
returning on the English Channel side by 
Plymouth, Exeter and Weymouth, where they 
would turn inland, and reach Hamenchelt via 
Bath, after which they would take train and 
spend the remaining time at Hatherly Court in 
North Wales. 

“ We won’t hurry ourselves/’ Dobson ad- 
vised, “ just jog along taking things easy, and 
seeing all there is to be seen, eh, Yank? ” 


A CLOSE CALL FOR DOBSON 101 

“ That’s exactly my idea, old man. If the 
weather is decent, we’ll have a bully time, I’m 
sure.” 

The weather was “ decent;” at least, the 
morning was all that could be desired, when the 
two boys, after a plunge in the pool and a 
hearty breakfast, strapped their kit to their 
wheels, and rode off along the Shurdington 
Road towards the steep ascent of Cooper’s 
Hill, over which their route lay to Thornbury 
and Bristol. 

“ By Jinks, Yank, it’s fine to shake old Hen- 
ley, eh? But I’ll bet we’re glad to show up 
again when time’s gone. Somehow, it always 
seems jolly fine to get back and meet all the 
chaps again,” Dobson called back over his 
shoulder, as he wriggled up the hill. 

“ I’m going to dismount and push it, Dob,” 
Roger shouted. “ This is rather a stiff rise, 
and it’s no use fagging ourselves out at the 
start. Say, Hamenchelt shows up well from 
here, doesn’t it? ” he broke off, as he stopped 
and gazed back at the old town nestling below 
them in the vale. “ Three, four, five, six, 
eight, twelve — say, Dob, I can count just a 
dozen steeples. What a place it is for 
churches! ” 

“ Most of the towns over here have them — 
the steeples, I mean — I remember that was 


102 JACKSON AND HIS HENLEY FRIENDS 


one of the things that struck me as odd when 
I was over in the States with you and your 
Dad — so few of the churches had really tall 
steeples, and so many of them were made of 
wood.” 

“ Look out, this hill’s marked ‘ dangerous; ’ 
see, Dob,” cried Roger, as he stopped and looked 
at a painted sign. “ Do they mark all the 
hills like that over here? ” 

“ Only when they are dangerous, you know. 
Fellows coming over from the other side might 
take it scooting, not knowing of that awkward 
turn just below us, and then have a spill.” 

“ I think it’s a good idea,” commended 
Roger. “ We’re pretty close to the top, aren’t 
we, now? ” he added. 

“ Yes, here we are! Say, isn’t that a stunning 
view from this side? See, there’s old Gloucester; 
see the cathedral? And there’s Tewksbury; 
I can always spot that by its abbey.” 

“ Tewksbury,” mused Roger, “ oh, yes, I 
knew there was something happened there; a 
battle, wasn’t it, in the War of the Roses? ” 

“ Right you are, old chap; that’s where 
Queen Margaret got licked by the Yorkists. 
There’s a field there called ‘ The Bloody 
Meadow,’ where a lot of the Lancaster soldiers 
were butchered after the scrap.” 

“ How clearly a fellow can see the river. 


A CLOSE CALL FOR DOBSON 103 

See, it runs through Tewksbury to Gloucester, 
and I can almost see where it joins the Bristol 
Channel. What are those three big sheets of 
water, Dob? ” 

“ Oh, those are the Whitcombe Reservoirs; 
they supply the water to Gloucester, you know. 
Now, then, Yank, for a spanking fine run down 
the other side into the Stroud valley. Don’t 
let the machine get away too much, though; 
there are one or two nasty twists, but the 
road’s good.” 

Down the three-mile hill the boys plunged, 
and in another ten minutes they were in the 
midst of the farming country. Nearly every 
rustic they passed saluted them with a “ Good 
marning, gents,” or “ A fine day to ye, bays.” 

They stopped for lunch at a country tavern, 
— “ The Three Foxes,” — where both did ample 
justice to the huge hunks of bread and cheese, 
and the cold slices of home-cured ham. 

The inn was full of countrymen eating their 
dinners, and a lively interest was displayed 
in the two visitors. 

“ An’ w’ere be’st ye a-goin’ ter? ” inquired 
a jolly, red-faced old farmer, as he brought his 
mug of ale across and seated himself at the lads’ 
table. “ Yer don’t say, now; so fur has hall 
that! But I s’pose has hit hain’t much these 
day, wot with these ’ere motor cars and bikes 


104 JACKSON AND HIS HENLEY FRIENDS 


as goes without no pushin’. Tis wonderful, 
wonderful, the distance as folks travels nowa- 
days; most wonderful, I’m thinkin’. But 
folks hain’t as fat as they uster be,” he rambled 
on, “ an’ they be a-gettin’ humpty-shouldered, 
too, I’m mortal certain. ’Tis all along with 
goin’ so swift an’ so fur. Now ye two be a-goin’ 
ter the end o’ land, yer says; well, good luck 
to yer, misters, good luck, an’ I ’opes yer gets 
back safe.” 

The worthy old rustic shook the lads’ hands 
warmly, and watched them as they mounted and 
rode away, shaking his head to himself, as 
if he foresaw that they would never return. 

“ By Jove, old man, no wonder you call this 
‘ The Green Shire.’ Some of the folks are 
green, all right,” cried Roger, with a laugh. 

“ Oh, it isn’t that, you know,” hastily dis- 
claimed Dobson. “ It’s called green because 
the fields and hills and valleys are so green.” 

“ Well, some of the inhabitants match the 
scenery,” rejoined the American, “ but,” he 
added, “ I like them; they are quaint and old- 
fashioned and honest and — hello, here’s an- 
other rise! Great Scott, what a hill! ” he broke 
off, as they suddenly turned sharply to the 
right, and the white road appeared to wriggle 
zigzag-fashion up to the sky. | 

They dismounted and toiled up. It was long 


A CLOSE CALL FOR DOBSON 


105 


and stiff, but at last the summit was reached, 
and with a shout of joy, the lads remounted and 
commenced the descent into the succeeding 
valley. 

Some distance ahead a lone figure was 
sauntering along, first on this side of the road, 
then on that. 

“ Taking up the whole road,” complained 
Dobson. “ What’s that over his shoulder? ” 

Roger was in the midst of the Henley boating 
song, and did not stop to reply: 

“ Kick your stretchers, fellows, pull, pull, pull! 

Feather lightly now for return. 

Number one will watch the stroke; 

You must follow till you’re broke, 

And its pull, pull, pull all together.” 

Dobson came roaring in with the chorus: 

“ And its pull, pull, pull all together.” 

The man in front stopped and glared around 
at them. Then he stepped into the middle of 
the road and commenced to cut down imaginary 
corn with the heavy scythe he was carry- 
ing. 

There was no time to stop. The lads rang 
their bells loudly, and Dobson shouted at the 
top of his voice: “ Look out! We can’t pull 
up!” 

“ Look out yourselves,” retorted the man, still 


106 JACKSON AND HIS HENLEY FRIENDS 

circling about with his implement. “ I am the 
king of all this part! ” 

It was an awkward position. The road at 
this point was quite narrow, and the wide circles 
of the scythe covered it almost from hedge to 
hedge. 

“Look out, Dob, the fellow’s drunk!” 
shouted Roger. 

But Dobson was already upon the obstructor, 
who raised his mower threateningly, and then, 
as the boy endeavored to flash past him, made 
a vicious cut. 

It missed Dobson’s head by only a few inches. 
The next instant Roger was upon the fellow. 
The American drove his wheel full tilt at him, 
regardless of consequences, and wheel, boy, man 
and scythe went crashing in confusion into the 
ditch. 

To extricate himself from the melee was the 
work of an instant for Roger. He was un- 
injured, with the exception of a few scratches, 
for the hedge had broken his fall, and before 
the assailant could recover himself, Roger was 
upon him. He wrenched the scythe from his 
hands, and then, catching the fellow by the 
throat, forced him down upon the road. 

Dobson jammed down his brake, and back 
pedaling, brought his wheel to a stop. In 
another moment he was at his chum’s side. 


A CLOSE CALL FOR DOBSON 107 

“ Hold the beggar, Yank/’ he cried; “ I’m 
with you! ” 

“ I’ve got him,” announced the American 
coolly, as he clung to the assailant. “ Get up, 
you confounded cad,” he ordered, addressing 
his prisoner. “ Oh, he’s drunk, Dob,” he 
explained, as his chum came running up. 

“ Drunk or sober, he’s going to the nearest 
police station,” insisted the angry Dobson. 

“Unhand me! Let me go!” growled the 
fellow, wriggling in the grasp of the two boys. 

“Not on your life,” emphatically insisted 
Roger. “ You’re too nice a chap to be strolling 
about a country road alone. Get up! ” 

“ I don’t think he’s drunk, Yank,” said Dob- 
son, looking keenly at the man. 

“ No, I’m not drunk; I’m the king’s son, 
and lord of the manor,” explained the fellow, 
“ and I’m going to cut down every man or 
woman in the road. I won’t have any tres- 
passing on my lands.” 

The chums exchanged glances. 

“ Bug-house,” ejaculated Roger, tapping his 
forehead. 

“ What? ” demanded Dobson. “ Oh, I twig; 
believe you’re right, old man.” 

“I’ll knight you both — knight you both 
with my trusty sword; kneel down!” com- 
manded the crazy one. 


108 JACKSON AND HIS HENLEY FRIENDS 


“ Sorry, but we must decline the honor for 
the present. Suppose we accompany you to 
your — your castle/’ suggested Roger, winking 
at Dobson. 

“ Follow, then, in my train! ” commanded 
“ the Kang’s son and lord of the manor.” 
“ Hand me my trusty weapon; but I warn 
you,” he added, “ you may pay dearly for 
your attempted passage through my domin- 
ions.” 

“We trust, your majesty,” began Roger, 
with assumed humility, but at that moment a 
welcome interruption came to the scene. 

Two men in a tall, two-wheeled dog-cart 
came driving furiously down the road. They 
drew up, as they saw the “ king ” and his 
two “ attendants.” 

“ Well, your majesty,” one of them called 
loudly, “ taking a little constitutional? ” 

“ The King ” waved them away. “ Go 
back,” he shouted angrily. “ You are dis- 
missed for a set of worthless knaves; I have me 
here more faithful fellows.” 

“ Most certainly, your majesty, but just 
climb up here, and we’ll take you back to your 
estate.” 

“ My estate is here, there, everywhere,” 
commenced the madman, waving his arms about 
wildly. 


A CLOSE CALL FOR DOBSON 


109 


“ Well, then, your throne, your majesty; 
help him up, John.” 

They bundled the poor “ king ” into the 
dog-cart, despite his desperate resistance, and 
with a nod and a wink to the lads, turned 
the horse’s head and drove rapidly away. 

“ Well,” cried Roger, as he stood watching 
the retreating vehicle. “ Do they allow many 
such to roam the roads of the 1 green shire? ’ ” 

“ I hope not,” laughed Dobson. “ He’s got 
away from Barn wood, I suppose; that’s a big 
asylum, you know, Yank, between here and 
Gloucester.” 

“ Poor chap,” Roger commiserated. “ I 
hope we didn’t hurt him.” 

“ No, but he came jolly close to hurting us,” 
growled Dobson. “ Gad, I can feel the whiz 
of that long blade of his around the back of my 
neck now. Wonder where he got it from. Come 
on, Yank, let’s get along.” 


CHAPTER XII 


A VISIT TO CAPTAIN DOBBS 

The young tourists ran over Clifton Downs, 
with Dobson humming : 

“ And ere the day three hundred horse had met on 
Clifton Down,” 

across the high suspension bridge and into 
Bristol town soon after six that evening. 

“ Well soon commence, old man, to be right 
in the history-making country,” said Dobson. 

“ You don't call Somersetshire one of the 
shires of the Sea Kings, do you, Dob? ” inquired 
Roger. 

“ Oh, no; Devon is really the shire of the 
Sea Kings, although some of the beggars did 
come from Cornwall as well, you know. Let's 
see, where was it Doctor Proctor told us was 
the best place to put up? You have the paper, 
Yank.” 

“ Yes, here it is. ‘ Maylay's Temperance 
Hotel, 34 Royal Crescent.' Now for getting 
there. Say, it's quite a big city, isn't it, Dob? ” 

“ Yes, I suppose it has three hundred thou- 
sand easily. It's a comer all right. They have 


A VISIT TO CAPTAIN DOBBS 


111 


just completed some big docks at Avonmouth, 
a little lower down the river. The Bristol 
people think they have the port for the Atlantic 
trade, you know.” 

“ Anything old here? ” inquired Roger. 

“ Oh, my, yes! It was a city, and a big one 
in the thirteenth century. It was from here 
that John Cabot sailed when he discovered 
your little bit of a continent on the other side. 
Prince Rupert and Lord Fairfax had it hot here, 
too, in the civil war. First the King got it and 
then the Parliament — no end of scrapping. 
You’ll be able to see signs of it yet.” 

They found their hotel without any diffi- 
culty, and having registered and been assigned 
a room, washed up and took supper, or dinner, 
as Dobson persisted in calling it, in the “ com- 
mercial room.” Then they strolled out to see 
the sights of the city by electric light. 

They found Bristol to be quite a modern and 
progressive city. It has shaken off its lethargy 
of the last century, and is now a bustling, 
thriving center of population. 

“ You must be sure and see St. Mary Red- 
cliff,” their host told them. “ Hall Hamericans 
want to see that. ’Tis six hundred years old 
— at least a part of it is.” 

So next day to St. Mary Redcliff the lads 
went. The church is declared to be “ the 


112 JACKSON AND HIS HENLEY FRIENDS 

fairest and most famous parish church in all 
England,” by no less an authority than Queen 
Bess. A tapering spire points skyward two 
hundred and eighty feet. This, however, was 
only completed in 1872. 

The boys spent a hustling day seeing the 
most important sights of Bristol town, and then 
made preparations to continue the trip on the 
morrow. They intended to make only a short 
run of about twenty-four miles by the route 
they had mapped out, via Clevedon and down 
the coast. 

The weather held beautifully fine, and a 
magnificent run they enjoyed. They stopped 
at Clevedon for lunch, and spent two or three 
hours strolling about the dainty little resort, 
and then, soon after three o’clock, covered the 
remaining short distance to Weston. 

Roger was no stranger to this resort, having 
spent a day there two years before in company 
with Dobson and some other chums, when 
they came down from Henley by boat, but it 
was a real pleasure for the boys to again roam 
around its beautiful environments. 

“ Look here, Dob, here’s where old Berry 
was standing when I saw him that day; and 
say, oh, by Jinks, why didn’t we think of it 
before; of course, this is where young Berry 
and his folks are. We must look them up.” 


A VISIT TO CAPTAIN DOBBS 


113 


“ Let’s see, what was the place called where 
they stopped; ‘ The Holmes/ wasn’t it? ” 

“ Yes, I remember it quite well; it’s off some- 
where along that road.” 

The Berrys were finally located, and the boys 
took dinner with them that evening. Mrs. 
Berry and her daughter were thoroughly 
enjoying the lovely summer days, and even 
young George looked happier than when he left 
Henley. 

That evening was spent with the little 
family, and then, as the next day’s run was to 
be a long one, the boys retired. 

From Weston to Ilfracombe by the coast 
road is within three miles of the century, and 
though the going is good, the way is hilly, 
and the nearer one approaches the Devon 
resort, the stiffer becomes the country. 

“ Looks rather like rain,” suggested Dob- 
son, as he and Roger swung across their 
wheels. 

“ I know, but I’ve given up worrying about 
your English weather,” was the American’s 
retort. “ The mercury in the barometer at the 
hotel has dropped half an inch since last night, 
but I used to notice that at Henley the barom- 
eter was a pretty good fibber. The weather 
would stay fine while it steadily dropped, and 
then as soon as it started to rise, down would 


114 JACKSON AND HIS HENLEY FRIENDS 

come the rain, so I pay no attention to it 
now. Come along, old man.” 

They soon left Weston behind, and skirted 
along the edge of Bridgewater Bay, looking 
out across it to the South Wales coast. The 
bay was full of craft of all kinds, from the little 
yawl and fishing smack to the larger excursion 
steamers, dotting it here and there with their 
white sails and smudges of black smoke. Far 
out, some ten miles ahead of them, arose 
two most peculiar-looking rocks. Huge and 
towering was the one, flat and squatty the 
other. 

“ The Steep and Flat Holmes,” cried Dob- 
son. “ I remember seeing them years ago. 
Aren’t they an odd-looking couple? ” 

“ They certainly are,” acknowledged Roger, 
stopping and gazing seaward. 

“ We should be at Minehead by noon,” ob- 
served Dobson, as they started again, “ and if 
we can find Captain Dobbs at home, I vote we 
get him to take us out to them; what say, 
Yank?” 

“ By Jinks, I vote we do; hope he’s home. 
I’d like to see them close in.” 

The boys had written before they started 
from Henley to their old friend, Captain Dobbs, 
the Minehead sea captain, telling him they 
would be passing his fishing village some time 


A VISIT TO CAPTAIN DOBBS 


115 


during the coming week, and inquiring if he 
would be ashore or afloat, but they had re- 
ceived no reply. 

“ It’s most likely he’s away on his brig,” 
Dobson had observed, but to their delight, they 
found the old captain down at the harbor, 
superintending the warping in of his ship, the 
Kate II. 

He let out a tremendous shout when he saw 
his two favorites. 

“ What oh, me young gents! ” he bellowed, 
rolling at a rapid gait towards them. “ What 
brings you to this part of the country? Thought 
you was at school. Oh, holidays, is it? Yes, 
sure, I should have known that, too; just come 
in from the Penzance trip,” he bellowed on. 
The worthy old man always seemed to think he 
was on the poop of his own ship and that it 
was necessary to shout at the top of his voice. 
“ Letter — letter — ” he repeated, as the boys 
told him they had written to him. “No, I 
ain’t seen no letter, but then, I’m three weeks 
away, and just come in. Reckon I’ll find it 
waitin’ fur me up ter the cottage. Come ’long, 
come ’long,” and reeling along before them, he 
led the way from the sea wall. 

“ Aye, aye, the ’Combe’s all right, but I 
ain’t a-goin’ ter let ye go on ter day. Yer must 
luff up and drop anchor at me cottage; the 


116 JACKSON AND HIS HENLEY FRIENDS 


missus’ll fix yer up all right, and in the morning 
maybe we’ll let yer hoist sail ’gain.” 

They reached the old salt’s cottage, a pretty 
little vine-clad place, perched high on the cliffs 
back in the village, and again the sailor’s voice 
was raised in a mighty hail: 

“ Ahoy! Ahoy, there, missus! ” he hailed. 
“ Drop the gangway and stand ready! Visitors 
cornin’ ’board.” 

Next moment a stout, comely old woman ap- 
peared in the doorway. Her sleeves were 
rolled to her shoulders and her hands were 
steaming with hot water and soapsuds. 

“ I see you bring the Kate in,” she called out, 
“ but I’m that bustled getting the wash on the 
line, I couldn’t come down to meet ye, Josiah. 
All right and well, I says — why, who be these 
young gents? ” she broke off, suddenly espying 
the two lads. 

“ Visitors. Make ready in the galley! ” 
commanded Captain Dobbs, whose sole idea 
in entertaining appeared to be that something 
to eat must at once be placed before his visitors. 
“ Two young gents from the college up there,” 
he went on, with a bang of his fist on the porch. 
“ You’ve heard me speak on ’em; two o’ the 
young chaps as come out in the blow couple o’ 
years ago and took me and the boys off the 
Homer sandbar.” 


A VISIT TO CAPTAIN DOBBS 


117 


Mrs. Dobbs was busily engaged in wiping 
the soapsuds off her steaming hands, and as 
soon as she had accomplished this to her satis- 
faction, she embraced each rather astonished 
lad in turn. 

“ My dears,” she welcomed, “ come in and sit 
ye down. Josiah, put oufc a chair; put out a 
chair. What be ye standing there like a guinea- 
pig fur? ” 

“ I ain’t a-standin’ like a guinea-pig,” in- 
dignantly denied the old salt. “ You go ’head 
and get busy in the galley; I wants ter show 
’em ’round a bit. Look here, me lads, here’s 
the model o’ the old Kate as was wrecked on the 
bar; made it meself the winter afore last, and 
Jennie, me daughter, fixed up the shells. ’Tis 
exact as she was, bless her old timbers! ” 

Captain Dobbs was pointing with pride to a 
big glass case, enclosing a three-foot model of 
his brig, The Kate. The lads examined it with 
interest, marveling at the skill with which the 
horny fingers of the sailor had pieced together 
the minutest details. The model was indeed, 
as he asserted, “ fixed right from mizzen to 
keel.” 

Then they were taken out in his garden at the 
back, and shown with pride his broad beans and 
vegetable marrows; his immense cucumbers 
and giant strawberries, now just in their prime; 


118 JACKSON AND HIS HENLEY FRIENDS 


and then “ the missus’ ” voice was heard in 
loud calls for dinner. 

What a dinner that was! The old lady 
was on her mettle and set out the best. There 
was a huge leg of tender Cotswold mutton and 
mint sauce. There were broad beans and po- 
tatoes and marrow, and home-made bread, and 
tea so strong that Roger vowed he could make 
his spoon stand up in it. And then there ar- 
rived a mighty roly-poly red currant and rasp- 
berry pudding, all wallowing in red sirup. 

The lads were ravenous and made the good 
things fly. 

“ That’s right, that’s right,” commented the 
captain, in approving tones, “ I likes ter see a 
chap take well hold o’ his victuals. Here, 
have another slice o’ this roly-poly; ’tis good 
fur yer inards and makes yer grow.” 

“ I can’t eat another berry,” Roger ex- 
postulated. 

“ Well, lay off a spell, lay off, while I runs 
down ter the jetty and sees as things is ship- 
shape there.” 

“ You think we had better stay over night? ” 
questioned Roger of his chum. 

“ Well, we certainly can’t move after this 
dinner,” acknowledged Dobson. “ I swear, I 
couldn’t pedal a mile.” 

“ And to-morrow,” rattled on the old salt, 


A VISIT TO CAPTAIN DOBBS 


119 


“ I’ll take yer out and down the coast a bit — 
’tis a mighty pretty coast, too.” 

So that night the two lads rested beneath the 
hospitable roof of Captain Dobbs, sleeping 
between snowy sheets on soft feather beds that 
let them down easily into the arms of old 
Morpheus. 


CHAPTER XIII 


“ THE STEEP HOLME 

“ All hands on deck, young masters, all 
hands on deck! ” roared old Captain Dobbs 
soon after seven next morning, as he rapped 
loudly upon the door of the boys’ sleeping- 
room. 

“ All right,” Roger called back, “ what time 
is it? ” 

“ Six bells in the mornin’ watch, an’ I was 
figurin’ on gettin’ afloat by eight bells; but I 
reckon as ’twill be noon afore we gets out ter 
the Holmes, fur the wind’s blowin’ ten knots 
clean off ’em, an’ we’ll have ter beat it all the 
way.” 

The mention of the Holmes sent the boys 
splashing into their shallow tin baths in a 
hurry, and ten minutes later they were running 
down the narrow box stairs into the living- 
room. 

“ Here they be, missus, here they be; hurry 
on the skerry and eggs,” roared the captain. 

A minute later a steaming platter of long 
fat slices of ham and half a dozen eggs was 


“ THE STEEP HOLME ” 


121 


placed before the boys, and another plate on 
which lay a couple of broad soles, browned to 
a turn. Upon this the lads fell with a vim, and 
thus fortified, they emerged thirty minutes later, 
and started in company with the captain for 
the jetty. 

“ A dull forenoon, increasing wind, and blow- 
ing smart afore night,” announced the old salt 
oracularly, studying the four quarters of the 
heavens, and sniffing knowingly. 

“ So? ” inquired Dobson. “Not too rough 
for the trip to the Holmes, I hope? ” 

“ No, sir, not a bit. I’ve a little cobble 
down there as’ll stand most any kind of a blow 
and sea; a nice, handy little craft as is snug and 
dry, and a fast sailor. I calls her The Cat , 
’cause she’s so almighty good at clawin’ into 
the wind; not but what she knows how to scoot 
when she’s drivin’, too, though. There she be 
now, the green ’un with the white top lines, an’ 
the long overhang.” 

They had arrived at the harbor by this time. 
It was alive with three or four score of smacks- 
men and their boys, all intent on the business of 
getting the smacks ready for sea. 

“ Fleet’s goin’ out to-night if it don’t blow 
too hard,” observed the captain, as he piloted 
his guests in and out amongst the crowd, with 
a nod here and a hail there to his friends. 


122 JACKSON AND HIS HENLEY FRIENDS 


“ Get her ready, Dick,” he shouted to a small 
boy, who was busily engaged in swabbing out 
the inside of the Cat. 

“ Aye, aye, Captain Dobbs, all ready, sir,” 
came the reply. 

“ Step aboard, young masters,” invited the 
sailor; “ hoist the main, Dick, and cast off.” 

The Cat caught the merry breeze and shot 
out from the wooden jetty, as Captain Dobbs 
busied himself in running on a jib, and then, 
loading up his pipe generously, settled down in 
the stern with the tiller under his arm. 

“ Come over here and you won’t get no wet- 
tin’,” he advised, motioning to the boys, who 
scrambled up and took their seat alongside the 
skipper. 

“ There they are! ” cried Roger, as the cobble 
darted out from behind the bluff, and poked her 
nose into the chops. 

“ Yes, sir, there they be. ’Tis clear this 
morn, though, or you’d never see ’em so plain. 
’Tis all o’ twelve mile to ’em.” 

“ They are odd-looking beggars,” said Dob- 
son. “ One so thundering tall and the other so 
awfully flat.” 

“ Oddest things on this coast, there’s no 
beatin’ that,” admitted the captain. “ Many 
o’ the boys won’t go near ’em when they’re 
a-hollerin’ like they be now — hear ’em! ” 


THE STEEP HOLME 


123 


The captain sent out one or two short, jerky 
little puffs from his pipe, and held up one horny 
finger to command attention. 

As he spoke there came from the far distant 
rocks a low, hollow whining, that gathered 
power as it proceeded, until it became a hoarse, 
uncanny whistle that seemed to fill the whole 
air with its screech. It was an unpleasant 
sound. 

“ By Jove, what a racket !” exclaimed 
Dobson. 

“ It must be a terrific noise to carry so far,” 
suggested Roger. 

“ You’ll say so, sir, when you gets there,” 
assented the sailor. 

The boy in the bow of the boat was crouching 
down, shading his eyes with his hands from the 
glare of the sun on the dancing waves. 

“ ’E’s a-’ollering mos’ terrific this marn, 
Captain Dobbs,” he called back. “ I reckon as 
’tis goin’ ter blow ’ard afore night.” 

“ Why, what’s his howling got to do with 
that? ” inquired Roger. 

“ P’hew — ew — p’hew — p'hew,” roared the 
Steep Holme away off in the distance, and the 
lad glanced uneasily before he replied : 

u ’E never ’oilers like that ’less ’tis goin’ ter 
blow, do ’e, Captain Dobbs? ” 

“ No,” growled the captain, taking his pipe 


124 JACKSON AND HIS HENLEY FRIENDS 


from his mouth. “ Tis a sure sign o’ foul 
weather.” 

“ Why? How does it work? What makes it 
kick up the racket when it’s going to blow? ” 
persisted Roger. 

“ P’hew — p’hew — whoop — p hew — 
p’hew,” bellowed the Steep Holme from afar. 

“ Just listen ter him! ” exclaimed Captain 
Dobbs. “ Oh, ’tis along with the tide, I s’pose 
— the tide a-runnin’ in strong, driven by the 
west wind, I reckon, and a-gushin’ in and out 
o’ the caves there, I s’pose; makes a kind o’ a 
suckin’ ; that’s the way I figure it. But the boys 
ashore is almighty scared of it, and ’as all kinds 
o’ yarns ’bout it as scares the women folks. 
Just nonsense, young gents, pure nonsense.” 

The lad, Dick, was listening as the captain 
explained the phenomenon, and shook his head. 

“ They says as ’tis the ‘ black flags ’ a-’owlin’ 
in torment, ’cause they be chained there inside 
the cave, and knows as they’s goin’ ter be 
tortured ’gain,” he dissented. 

The captain laughed loudly. “ You’ll have 
the young gents scared, Dick,” he shouted — 
“ that is,” he added, “ if they was the scarey 
sort, which I reckon they ain’t, so you can go 
’head and tell that rhyme, as I knows you’re 
itchin’ ter spout. Out with it!” 

Thus enjoined, the lad solemnly recited: 


THE STEEP HOLME ” 


125 


“ When ye ’ear me shout and roar, 

Keep your boats upon the shore. 

When in silence deep I sleep, 

Then’s the time to man the fleet. 

But when I screech and whistle shrill, 

Then for all men I brood ill. 

An’ when the torch flares on me crest, 

Then sink I to lastin’ rest.” 

“ Good! Bully! ” cried the boys. “ But what 
does it all mean, Dick? ” 

“ Means as ’e’s a-warning now, an’ if ever the 
torch shines on ’is top ’e’ll topple hover and 
bust,” explained the lad, whereat the captain 
laughed more boisterously than ever, Roger 
and Dobson joining in; but Dick’s features 
never lost their solemnity. 

“ ’Tis the ’oly truth,” he affirmed. 

“ Maybe, maybe,” Captain Dobbs admitted; 
“ but look ter yer sheet, Dick. I’m goin’ ter 
come ’bout an’ stand in further, ter give the 
young gents a good look at the Holmes.” 

The Cat clawed up into the wind in a manner 
truly befitting her name, and then, running 
down, skirted along the base of the great rocks. 

The Steep Holme was a mighty pinnacle, 
rearing almost straight up out of the swirling 
waters to a height of nearly three hundred 
feet. The Flat, its neighbor, did not project 
more than thirty at low tide, but was of greater 
area. 


126 JACKSON AND HIS HENLEY FRIENDS 


“ My word! ” cried Dobson, making his voice 
heard with difficulty above the thunder of the 
breakers, “ what a magnificent sight! ” 

It was, indeed, and Roger, as he lay back in 
the stern of the little boat, now tearing past the 
Holmes on the port tack, echoed: “Mag- 
nificent! ” 

An inspiring scene it was upon which they 
gazed. There the two rocks stuck, the one 
straight up out of the boiling waters, the other 
flat on them. The Steep almost resembled 
some giant arrow-head, as if a Colossus, in 
striding across from the English to the Welsh 
coast in days gone by, had rammed one of his 
mammoth arrows, feather-head down, into the 
Channel, and left the point sticking up, against 
which the incoming rollers of the great Atlantic 
might forever fling themselves in impotent 
fury. The Flat looked as if one of his sandals 
had become loosened, and rising to the surface, 
had anchored itself to the arrow-head. 

“ Fair or foul,” shouted Captain Dobbs, as 
he skilfully brought his little craft almost 
within the line of roaring breakers, “ there’s no 
peace here, and God help the boat as gets caught 
in the swirl ’twix the two Holmes, fur she’ll 
never come out. Good Lordy, how they do 
howl! ” he exclaimed, as the Steep gave out a 
yet more piercing shriek. 


THE STEEP HOLME 


127 


“ It’s almost uncanny! ”* cried Dobson. 
“ Don’t get in too close, captain,” he added. 

“ No fear, lad; I knows all there is ter know 
’bout this here water, but you’d say ’twas un- 
canny if you’d seen it when the gale’s a-roarin’, 
as I have once or twice. I come out here with 
the lifeboat and took off a schooner’s crew most 
as close in as we be now. We played with old 
Davy Jones that night, I tell ye, boys.” 

“ Tell us about it, captain,” cried the boys, 
in one voice. 

“ No, no, lads, I can’t do that; I ain’t much 
at spinnin’ a yarn,” replied the old salt, as he 
brought his cobble about and sent her racing 
before the wind for home. 

“ P’hew! P’hew — p’hew — whoop!” 
shrieked the Holme behind them, as if speeding 
them on their way in a last adieu. 

The wind was rising fast, and they fairly 
flew back to Minehead before it. They met the 
fishing fleet beating out in the teeth of the 
rising gale. 

“ I wonder they go out when the weather is 
so threatening,” cried Roger. 

“ It’s bread and butter to ’em, lad. The sole 
is thick out in mid-channel, so the report come 
in, and the boys is after ’em. Them little 
smacks can stand ’most any kind o’ a blow, but 
spite o’ all they do get catched once and again. 


128 JACKSON AND HIS HENLEY FRIENDS 


Now, then, stand ready, Dick!” and Captain 
Dobbs manoeuvered his little boat skilfully for 
the narrow entrance to the harbor. 

Five minutes later he tied up securely, and 
stepped ashore, while far off in the distance 
still came to them in fainter tones the whistle 
of the Steep Holme. 


CHAPTER XIV 


A COACH AND^FOUR 

Next morning the lads bade the captain and 
his buxom wife good-by, and resumed the run 
for Ilfracombe. The hard macadam road first 
led them away from the sea, and then crossed 
the winding river Parret, as it rushed to the 
ocean. A sharp turn and they were once again 
following the coast line, past Blue Anchor, 
until shortly before nine o’clock they arrived 
at Quay Town. 

“ It was a fishing village; it is now, I suppose, 
but it is turning into a seaside resort, like so 
many of these towns along the coast,” Dob- 
son explained. “ Now, Yank,” he continued, 
“ you’ll see some hills. It’s hills, hills, hills all 
the way from here to Ilfracombe, but we must 
strike inland a bit and get a look at Exmoor 
Forest; that’s the one place in all England, you 
know, Yank, where the wild deer is still hunted. 

“ So! ” exclaimed Roger, “ I didn’t know 
it.” 

The boys were laboriously pushing their 
machines up what is known as the North Hill, a 


130 JACKSON AND HIS HENLEY FRIENDS 

long spur of lofty land. At Portlock they left 
their wheels at “ The Ship and Anchor,” and pro- 
ceeded afoot. It was well they did, for no bike 
could ever have been pushed up that ragged 
edge of cliff. It rose almost sheer up from the 
ocean, and took its name from the little village. 
In fact, everything around this part did take 
its name from that settlement, as Roger pointed 
out. 

“ It's ‘ Portlock Town/ 1 Portlock Weir/ 
‘ Portlock Bay ’ and ‘ Portlock Hill! ’ ” he ex- 
claimed, “ but, by Jinks, Dob, this is getting to 
be a stunning view. Look, look, I can see clear 
across the Channel — and there are the Welsh 
Mountains — that’s them, I’ll swear. Why, it 
must be a good thirty miles off.” 

“ All of that,” acquiesced Dobson, as he 
gazed off across the blue waters. “ That blow 
last night must have cleared the atmosphere, I 
suppose.” 

As they struggled up to the high tableland 
at the summit, some thousand feet above the 
sea level, they crossed a fine hard road, and 
along this there came bowling a big, top-heavy- 
looking coach and four. 

“A tally-ho!” shouted Dobson. “ Say, 
Yank, let’s see if we can’t get a lift; I’ll bet 
they’re going to do the rounds! ” 

The lads shouted and gesticulated, and a 


A COACH AND FOUR 


131 


dignified-looking man, resplendent in red and 
blue livery, stood up in the overhang of the 
coach at the back, and blew his yard-long horn 
furiously. 

There were only four people on the seats at 
the top of the big coach, and as the vehicle 
drew abreast of the boys, a tall man, with a 
big, shiny white hat on his head, leaned over 
the side and shouted: 

“ What do you want, boys? ” 

“ A lift,” replied Dobson. 

The tall man leaned over and touched the 
driver on his shoulder. There was a laugh, 
and then the moving horses were pulled 
up. 

“ Get up, then! ” shouted the man, and as 
Roger and his chum stood wondering how they 
were to get up the tall coach, a footman sprang 
smartly down, and placed a little ladder, up 
which they scrambled. 

The ladder was drawn up, the footman at 
the back let out a resounding blare from his 
long horn, the driver touched up the impatient 
horses, and off again bowled the big coach, 
while the man who had invited the lads to get 
up beckoned for them to come over with him 
in the front seat. 

They obeyed with alacrity, and seated them- 
selves beside him. 


132 JACKSON AND HIS HENLEY FRIENDS 

“ Thanks,” said Roger, “ thanks for stop- 
ping.” 

The man looked at the lad keenly. Then he 
slowly pointed a finger at him. 

“ You’re an American,” he accused. 

“ Why, how did you guess that? ” demanded 
Roger. 

“ Easy, awfully easy, you know; knew it 
directly you drawled out that ‘ thanks! ’ ” 

“ To whom do we pay? ” inquired Dobson, 
turning around and looking for some official. 

The tall man nudged his companion on his 
right, and then explained, seriously: “ You 
pay me.” 

“ How much? ” demanded Dobson, going 
down into his pockets. 

“ Five pounds each,” said the man, looking 
hard at the youngsters. 

“ Five pounds! ” they both gasped with one 
breath. “ Why — why — ” 

“ Isn’t it enough? Well, then, a tenner each; 
how’ll that suit you? ” 

“ Oh, I say,” commenced Dobson, “ stop 
your fooling. How much is it, no joking? ” 

“ Isn’t your friend here an American? ” per- 
sisted the man. “ Of course he is; and aren’t 
all Americans millionaires? Of course they 
are. Why, a tenner’s nothing to him. Stump 
up, my young friends.” 


A COACH AND FOUR 


133 


The joke might have gone a little further, 
had not the gentleman on the other side ex- 
ploded with laughter. 

“ Oh, don’t mind Chawley,” he drawled; 
“ he’s bound to have his fun, you know.” 

By this time it had dawned on the lads that 
they had held up and boarded a private coach, 
mistaking it for one of the many plying for 
passengers over to Exmoor roads. 

“ Say, I believe,” Dobson explained, “ that 
we’ve made a mistake. We thought this was a 
regular tally-ho; it isn’t, is it, though? ” he 
inquired. 

“ Why, most certainly it’s a regular tally-ho. 
There isn’t a finer double span of nags in the 
county; don’t you like ’em? ” demanded 
“ Chawley.” 

“ Oh, they’re fine, but we’re afraid they’re 
a private team, and we thought we were hailing 
a public ooach. You must think we have a 
lot of cheek, but we didn’t know, you know,” 
blundered on Dobson, getting very red in the 
face. 

“ What’s your name? ” demanded the owner 
of the coach. “ We must be regular about this 
affair, you see. It won’t do for a fellow to go 
riding about Exmoor roads with two gentle- 
men to whom he has not been introduced. 
That’s a fact, isn’t it, Dunn? ” 


134 JACKSON AND HIS HENLEY FRIENDS 


“ Oh, most certainly,” agreed Mr. Dunn. 

“ Why, this fellow’s Roger Jackson; he’s an 
American, and I’m Tom Dobson; we’re both 
Henley fellows; touring the coast, you know, 
on our bikes.” 

Mr. Dunn slowly and deliberately inserted a 
single glass in his left eye, and critically ex- 
amined the lads. 

“ You don’t say! ” he exclaimed, after a 
minute examination. “ Really, now, really, 
’pon me word, I’m jolly glad to meet some Hen- 
ley chaps; was there meself in the eighties.” 

“ Chawley,” too, evinced pleasure at the 
mention of the word Henley, and at once 
proffered his hand to the chums, each in turn. 
“ I’m delighted,” he said, “ to have any Henley 
fellows as my guests; delighted, I’m sure; 
don’t smoke, do you? ” 

He extracted his cigar case, as he inquired, 
but the lads shook their heads and declined. 

“ You haven’t told us who you are,” sug- 
gested Roger pointedly, for he was rather under 
the impression they were being made fun 
of. 

“ By Jove, that’s a fact, now, isn’t it? Dunn, 
you do it; I’ve forgotten how.” 

Mr. Dunn arose, with a stately motion, and 
steadying himself with one hand, waved the 
other, as he introduced : 


A COACH AND FOUR 


135 


“ Lord Bonhaven, Mr. Roger Jackson. Mr. 
Roger Jackson, Lord Bonhaven.” 

Then the ceremony was gone through in like 
manner for Dobson’s benefit, and it was then 
Lord Bonhaven’s turn to introduce his friend, 
which he did, with a curt : 

“ Sir Michael Hicks-Dunn, High Sheriff of 
Somersetshire.” 

Honors done, and the lads still rather em- 
barrassed, the drive continued. But Lord Bon- 
haven and his friend, the High Sheriff, proved 
to be most delightful comrades, who soon put 
the lads at their ease, and at a spanking pace, 
the four big grays sent the coach along over the 
breezy uplands, until towards noon, they drew 
up, with a clatter of hoofs and a flourish of 
horn, at “ The Royal Oak ” at Winford. 

Roger and Dobson, rather uncertain as to 
their position, whether guests or strangers, 
dismounted with “ me lord ” and the High 
Sheriff, and were just commencing to wander 
off, when his lordship stopped them, with a 
loud: 

“ Oh, say, you fellows, don’t go off; we’re 
going to take luncheon, you know, and I’ve told 
Scraggs to lay plates for four. Look, my 
young American friend,” he continued, ad- 
dressing Roger, “ I wish to draw your attention 
to this far-famed sign picture. It was painted 


136 JACKSON AND HIS HENLEY FRIENDS 

by — by — who the dickens was it painted by, 
Dunn? ” 

“ Oh, hanged if I know the chap’s name,” re- 
plied the baronet, with languid interest. 

“ Well, by Jove, it doesn’t matter, you 
know, but it represents Prince Charlie bunking 
after the battle of Worcester. No joking, it 
is considered a really remarkable painting, 
although it is only a sign. You may not know, 
my young friend from Yankeeland, but Prince 
Charlie was afterwards Charles II,” explained 
his lordship. 

The boys gazed with considerable interest at 
the gaudy-colored sign. It represented a man 
in brilliant uniform, mounted upon a dashing 
and impossible white steed, galloping hard over 
also impossible hedges, followed by a few noble- 
men, while in the distance could be discerned 
the Parliamentary forces under Cromwell, ap- 
parently in hot pursuit. 

The host, Scraggs, at this moment appeared 
from beneath the low-roofed, thatched cottage. 

“ It was blown down, me lud,” he explained, 
“ blown down last winter and smashed to bits, 
but Hi got a hartist gentleman, as was stopping 
’ere, to paint me one like it, and ’pon me word, 
me lud, ’tis better than the old one, ’pon me 
word it is, me lud. Luncheon is ready, me 
lud.” 


A COACH AND FOUR 


137 


Luncheon was served in the tap-room. The 
floor consisted of great flagstones, roughly 
pieced together, and sanded. In the center of 
the room was placed the plain deal table, over 
which was spread a spotless white cloth, on 
which was displayed an imposing collection of 
pewter and earthenware. Huge rafters carried 
the whole length of the room, and suspended 
to them were many hams. All around the room 
were long pictures, all representing hunting 
scenes, in which the unfortunate deer appeared 
to be always getting the worst of the chase. A 
glistening bar, with half a dozen handles at va- 
rious angles, enthroned behind which sat the 
landlord’s wife, completed the “ tap,” which, 
although beer and spirits were served in it, 
possessed none of the appearance of a saloon. 
It was a hostlery, and as such “ The Royal 
Oak ” enjoyed an enviable reputation through- 
out all Devonshire. 

At luncheon the talk was all of Henley and 
Henley boys. 

“ When I was there the last half of ’83,” 
boasted Lord Bonhaven, “ Littleton, the school 
captain, cleared the bar at five, eleven and 
a half, and carried his bat against the county 
the same year for a hundred and twelve.” 

“ Oh,” cried Roger, beginning to get in- 
terested, “ we have a fellow there now • — Blake, 


138 JACKSON AND HIS HENLEY FRIENDS 

of the sixth — who tipped the bar at six feet 
and three quarter inches.” 

“ Yes,” chimed in Dobson, “ and Yank, 
here, ran the Charterhouse chap, Jones, off his 
feet in the open mile last half — did it in 
four-thirty-six flat. We’re smashing all 
the old records up there now, aren’t we, 
Yank? ” 

“ I’ll bet you’ll never have a chap there 
who’ll do what Chawley, here, did,” interposed 
Sir Hicks-Dunn, as he attacked his fried sole 
savagely. “ Hat trick, you know, against the 
county, be Jove; that’s one picture that’ll stay 
with me always — those three fellows walking 
back one after another, just as fast as Chawley 
could bowl the balls, be Jove — rattling! By 
Jinks, how the school did yell, and old Doctor 
Jennings — he was there then, you know — 
came running out like a sprat, and shook hands 
with you, didn’t he, Chawley? ” 

His lordship acknowledged that to be a 
fact, and so the reminiscences continued, until 
at last it was suggested that it was time to be 
moving. 

“ Yes, you know,” Roger explained, “ we 
should be on our way to Ilfracombe by this 
time,” and then the lads went on to explain 
about their trip, and how they had scrambled 
up the Exmoor tableland for only a short 


A COACH AND FOUR 


139 


ramble, and how they had mistaken his lord- 
ship’s coach for a passenger conveyance. 

“ Ah, ah, quite a joke; awfully good, you 
know; most stunning,” his lordship laughed 
boisterously. “ Now you must come on, and 
we’ll take you back to Portlock. John, sit back 
with Giles in the overhang; I’ll take the rib- 
bons going back,” Lord Bonhaven commanded, 
addressing his coachman, and gathering up the 
leathers, he shook up his magnificent grays, 
and sent the big coach bowling off at a spanking 
pace towards Portlock. 


CHAPTER XV 


“ BEVERLY CASTLE ” 

His lordship appeared to be on his mettle, 
and made the coach travel at a great pace. 
Only once did he slow up over the hill and dale 
journey between “ The Royal Oak ” and Port- 
lock, and that was to have the heavy shoe put 
on the rear wheel, as they started the descent of 
a long, steep hill. 

They did the seven and a half miles in just 
three-quarters of an hour, and then, as he pulled 
up, Lord Bonhaven jumped down from the 
box, and made a critical examination of the 
steaming horses, as the footman stood, holding 
the near leader’s head. 

There appeared to be something on his lord- 
ship’s mind, as he stood there, while Roger 
and Dobson extended their hands to bid him 
good-by. 

u Thanks, awfully, for the spin; we’ve en- 
joyed it great, haven’t we, Yank? ” said Dob- 
son. 

“ Awfully,” echoed Roger. 

“ Say, you know,” suddenly blurted out his 


BEVERLY CASTLE 


141 


lordship, why not come over to Beverly with 
us and spend the night? You can’t get on to 
Ilfracombe to-night, you know; it’s too late. 
Come on to Beverly, and we’ll put you up. 
Then in the morning you can start out fresh.” 

“ Oh, it’s jolly kind of you, but we’re a day 
behind now,” Roger said. 

“ What’s the bally diff? ” demanded Lord 
Bonhaven. “ Time was made for slaves, you 
know, and you have all the holidays before you. 
Let’s carry them off, shall we, Dunn? ” .. 

“ Most certainly,” decided the High Sheriff. 
“ I’m staying over at Beverly, you know, and 
Chawley is a most beastly dull fellow; come 
along and ’liven the old pile up; it needs some 
young blood; it has the dry rot.” 

There was some discussion over the proposi- 
tion, but the boys finally were won over to make 
the stop. 

“ But, you know,” Dobson explained, “ we 
must go down to the “ Ship and Anchor ” and 
get our bikes; we left them there.” 

“ Giles,” commanded his lordship decisively, 
“ go down to the pub and get the gentlemen’s 
wheels. Take John with you and carry the 
things up here on your backs, and then pack 
them in the back of the coach.” 

The man touched his hat; John joined him, 
and they departed on a run, while the two 


142 JACKSON AND HIS HENLEY FRIENDS 


gentlemen took out their cigar cases and strolled 
around with the boys, waiting for the return. 

Twenty minutes later the two men returned, 
puffing and perspiring under the load of a wheel 
apiece. Into the coach the bicycles were loaded, 
and then the party climbed back, Lord Bon- 
haven shook up his grays, and off again bowled 
the coach. 

“ How far is Beverly? ” inquired Roger. 

“ Five miles as the crow flies, but it’s ten the 
road we travel,” explained the host. 

“ It’s set in the very midst of ‘ Black Bar- 
row/ with the Exe in front,” added Sir Hicks- 
Dunn. “ Best trout fishing in Devon,” he 
added, whereat Dobson pricked up his ears. 

By this time the little party had become 
better acquainted and felt more at ease with 
one another, and when the long, old, rambling 
pile of Beverly was reached they had discovered 
many mutual friends. 

When an Englishman invites one to his home, 
one may rest assured that one has his confidence, 
and there is nothing he would not do for one. 
So the chums discovered. “ Beverly is yours,” 
Lord Bonhaven invited, with an expressive wave 
of his hand. 

His lordship was a bachelor some thirty 
years of age, and his friend, the High Sheriff, 
was a little his senior. At Beverly Lord Bon- 


BEVERLY CASTLE 


143 


haven kept home in all the ancient grandeur 
of the old English country gentleman. Beside 
his vast estate, consisting of over five thousand 
acres, the Dobson home in North Wales ap- 
peared small, indeed. Situated on the very 
crest of the hills of Exmoor Forest, almost in the 
very center of that singular piece of wild land of 
Devonshire, not reaching up quite so high, not 
so extensive as Dartmoor, it nevertheless pos- 
sessed a charm all its own. Almost within 
sight of Lord Bonhaven’s castle was Dunkerry 
Beacon, the highest of the many hills of this 
wild country. 

“ You have the oddest names around these 
parts,” complained Roger, as the party was 
driving up to what appeared to be the back 
entrance to the castle. “ There’s * The Devil’s 
Punch Bowl,’ ‘ Hangman’s Hill,’ ‘ Torr Steep,’ 
and so many others.” 

“ Aye,” agreed Lord Bonhaven, “ and you 
must not forget that we are also in the * Lorna 
Doone ’ country — here we are! ” 

As they pulled up, the boys leaped down and 
gazed about them. Far off, the base of Dun- 
kerry Beacon seemed to be girt about with a 
circle of impenetrable mist. The sun was slowly 
setting far out Atlanticward, red and angry- 
looking; the wind was coming in from the west, 
bringing with it the moan of the ocean and the 


144 JACKSON AND HIS HENLEY FRIENDS 

clamor of the incoming channel tide hammering 
the rock-bound coast five miles away. 

Quite a crowd of hostlers appeared from some- 
where, as the coach drew up. While one 
placed the ladder for the occupants to descend, 
another brought out the packages, and a third 
flung wide the door of the entrance. Servants 
appeared to be everywhere; in fact, the place 
rather reminded Roger of an old Virginian 
plantation where he had once visited, with the 
exception that the help was white instead of 
black. 

“ Hodges,” called Lord Bonhaven, “ the 
gentlemen will remain over night. They have 
no luggage; see they are fitted out.” 

“ Yes, me lud,” responded a man who ap- 
peared from some recess, and almost before 
Roger or his chum could draw breath, they were 
being escorted through dark-paneled halls, up 
broad stairs, until they arrived at the further 
western wing of the rambling old castle. 

“ Bauth, sir? ” inquired the man. 

Dobson nodded. 

“ If you please,” replied Roger. 

It all moved with the slow precision of the 
well-managed England country house. There 
was no noise, no bustle. The trained valet 
anticipated every want. A scarcely audible: 
“ Shower or German, sir? ” or a whispered: 


“BEVERLY CASTLE ” 


145 


“ Massage, sir? ” would come from the impas- 
sive lips of the valet, but that was all. 

An hour later, just as the long Devonshire 
twilight was merging into darkness, and the 
lights of the mansion commenced to spring 
up, the two lads strolled into the smoking- 
room, where their host and his friend were 
reclining. 

“ By Jove, thought you fellows were never 
coming down,” observed his lordship, looking 
up from his copy of the Referee . 

“ Dinner is served, me hid,” whispered a 
servant from the doorway at the same mo- 
ment. 

“ Four confounded chaps,” grumbled Sir 
Hicks-Dunn, as the four drew up to the table, 
and a footman placed a chair behind each. 
“You should get spliced, Chawley.” 

“ Know it,” admitted “ Chawley ” languidly. 
“ Beastly shame, you know, but I can’t find a 
girl.” 

The dinner was long-drawn-out, and to Roger 
tedious, but at last it was over. 

“ I’m tired,” Dobson confessed a little later, 
as eleven o’clock sounded from a dozen different 
parts of the castle, “ and I think I’ll go to roost,” 
he added. 

“ By Jove, I’m with you,” drawled his 
lordship, who appeared to be in a per- 


146 JACKSON AND HIS HENLEY FRIENDS 


manent state of being tired. “ Hodges will 
help you.” 

It was small help the lads required, and 
thirty minutes later they were both sound 
asleep. 


CHAPTER XVI 


THE BONHAVEN PLATE 

Roger dreamed that night — a thing he 
rarely did. He dreamed he was being held 
down in that old-fashioned four-poster. Some 
one had removed the absurd bolster, and placed 
it across his mouth. It half smothered him, and 
he seemed to be powerless to tear it off. He 
tried to call Dobson, but his chum was far 
away. Once he thought he heard him reply, 
and then that wretched bolster shut out all 
sound. 

“ Dob ! Dob ! ” he endeavored to shout. And 
then he was awake — very much awake — and 
Dobson was really by his side. 

“ Shut up, you chump,” he was whispering 
hoarsely. 

“What is it?” demanded Roger, propping 
himself up. 

A faint moon was shining in with coy fitful- 
ness through the open windows, obscured every 
second or so by scudding clouds. 

“ Look! ” hissed Dobson. 


148 JACKSON AND HIS HENLEY FRIENDS 


And in one of the momentary appearances of 
the lunar light, Roger beheld the rungs of a 
ladder barred against the window; and on the 
last visible rung was a pair of shoes. 

“ I heard something and it woke me up,” 
hoarsely whispered Dobson. “ They came in 
my room first, I think, and that roused me. Get 
up, Yank! ” 

“ Yank ” was getting up. Roger Jackson 
was nothing if he was not quick in action. He 
crept noiselessly towards the open window, 
followed by his chum. As the lads reached the 
sill the pair of shoes on the ladder disappeared 
from sight above them. Cautiously Roger 
leaned out and peered upwards. 

The ladder reached to the window above him, 
the third, and the top floor of that part of the 
castle. 

“ Something crooked here, Dob,” he whis- 
pered, withdrawing his head for a moment. 

Dobson nodded in silent acquiescence, and 
pointed dumbly upwards. 

For just a second Roger hesitated — only a 
second — but during that instant a dozen 
propositions flashed through his brain. His 
decision was reached almost instantaneously. 
With a meaning glance at his chum, he reached 
far out of the open window, grasped the ladder 
four feet away, and swung himself on to it. 


THE BONHAVEN PLATE 


149 


Then he climbed rapidly upwards. A jolt from 
beneath told him Dobson was following. 

Despite the demands of the momentous 
moment, Roger was forced to notice, as he 
swarmed rapidly upwards, the beauty of the 
scene. The moon, passing silently out from 
behind one dark cloud, revealed the grand old 
castle in all its glory. Its irregular battle- 
ments stood out in severe, sharp angles and 
sweeping curves in the mellow light. Below, 
lay the silent, deserted country: broad, level 
lawns in front, edged in by dark masses of 
forest trees, and beyond these the black moun- 
tains. 

Dobson, Saxon to the core, saw nothing but 
the rungs of the ladder in front of him. 

“ Go on/’ he whispered hoarsely, as his 
fingers touched his chum’s heels. 

In another second Roger grasped the sill of 
the window above him. With his eyes on that 
level, he peered in. The room was in blackness. 
He edged to one side of the ladder and Dobson 
crawled up to his position. 

A low mumble of voices sounded from the 
gloom inside, but as they clung there, endeavor- 
ing to pierce the darkness, a single, brilliant ray 
of light streamed out. But not towards them. 
It fastened itself on the further side of the room, 
then groped about uncertainly until it settled 


150 JACKSON AND HIS HENLEY FRIENDS 


on the doors of a massive safe. There it 
stayed, and its increasing focus of circle told 
that the handlers of it were reducing the dis- 
tance between them and the safe. No sound 
came now from the room, not even a footfall. 
The voices had ceased. 

The lads crouched low, with eyes just level 
with the sill of the window. They were clad 
only in their pajamas, barefooted, and with 
nothing but their naked hands as weapons. 
Each boy knew how to use those, however. 
Henley breeds no quitters, or if she does, she 
drops them from her roll before they reach her 
senior forms. Like the United States Navy or 
Army, a fellow is made or broke before he 
attains seniority. 

The unknown intruders before them were on 
mischief bent. That was enough for the lads. 
With more years behind them, and consequent 
greater discretion, they might have stayed and 
called for help, but the fire and rashness of 
youth burned in them, and their sole thought 
was to catch the intruders — catch them with 
their bare hands. 

A slow, screeching sound came from within, 
and then a boring — a grooving. The light 
remained steady now, fixed upon a six-inch 
circle of the steel safe. The night prowlers were 
at work! 


THE BONHAVEN PLATE 


151 


Noiselessly, with the practised hoist of the 
fellow who knows well the stunts of the hori- 
zontal and parallel bars, Roger pulled himself 
on to the sill. Then he dropped down inside 
the room, Dobson at his elbow. 

The boys crouched low on the inside. Still 
that boring sound continued, punctuated now 
and again by a hoarse whisper or a slight noise 
of movement from the darkness. 

Cautiously Roger and his chum pawed 
around, endeavoring to obtain some idea of 
how the land lay. The room appeared to be 
unfurnished, for they struck no furniture of 
any kind, and the floor was uncarpeted. 

It was a critical moment. Should they throw 
off all concealment and dash upon the intruders, 
or observe yet longer? 

The decision was made for them, for at that 
moment Dobson’s foot came in contact with 
some piece of furniture, and, with a crash, it 
fell to the bare floor. At the same second the 
lantern was turned upon them, and they were 
exposed in its blinding rays. 

To leap to their feet and dash forward was 
the work of a second. 

“ Come on, Dob! ” yelled Roger at the top of 
his voice. 

Dobson came like a thoroughbred. For one 
fleeting instant they were the focus of that 


152 JACKSON AND HIS HENLEY FRIENDS 


dazzling glare, then, with a crash and thud, 
Roger wrenched the lantern from the grasp of 
some unseen hand. Dobson had something, 
too. His bare hands felt the rough, unshaven 
face of some one, and he flung his weight upon 
him. Roger let out drives to right and left 
blindly, then a huge pair of arms were flung 
about him; he was lifted from his feet and sent 
crashing to the floor by a superior weight. He 
wriggled out from under that grasp; it caught 
him again — by the throat this time, and pinned 
him down, struggling desperately. He heard 
his chum’s loud shout of anger, and then there 
was another crash. 

When the lantern went to the floor the light 
was extinguished, and now the fight went on in 
total darkness. But suddenly the fickle moon 
peeped in through the open window. It showed 
Roger his assailant. It showed Dobson his. 
It showed another — a third figure, moving 
swiftly to the attack. It showed a room, bare 
almost, with the exception of a large, old- 
fashioned, key-locking safe, a chair and a big 
table. Just long enough to disclose all this did 
the moon stay, and then slipped slowly behind 
another cloud and left the struggle to proceed 
in darkness. 

The boys were outnumbered and decidedly 
outweighed. Their assailants, too, had seen 


THE BONHAVEN PLATE 


153 


who and how many their attackers were, and, 
with an oath, the third man rushed to the as- 
sistance of his confederates. 

But now came a diversion. There was a 
racing of bare feet upon the stairs and along the 
landing outside. A terrific blow came on the 
door. The handle was wrenched furiously, 
and a stentorian voice shouted: 

“ Wot’s hup? Wot’s hup? ” 

“ Break it in,” gasped Roger, choking under 
the tightening grasp of his assailant. 

Crash! Crash! Bang! Bang! came the 
blows upon the stout door. It held firm. They 
built doors of two-inch oak in the old days for 
British castles; the locks were clumsy and 
heavy. It takes more than a bare fist to break 
it in. 

“ Hopen th’ bloomin' door! Hopen hit, I 
says,” loudly demanded the voice from outside, 
and then more feet came racing along the pas- 
sage. Some one had taken a chair. Roger 
heard it go to pieces beneath the blows, and 
still he and Dobson were fighting for their lives 
on the floor inside. 

Now came a loud, authoritative, aristocratic 
command of : 

“ Get out of the way, Giles; get out of the 
way, man. Butt into it, Dunn — now, then, 
all together! ” 


154 JACKSON AND HIS HENLEY FRIENDS 


“ Slope! ” howled the man over Roger, and 
the American felt the grip relax. There was a 
jostling of forms, a scrambling of feet, oaths 
and cries, and then the door came in, with a 
tear and crash, and the room was flooded with 
light. 

With the tenacity of his breed, Roger hung, 
half choked as he was, to the legs that sought to 
disentangle themselves from his grip. One 
heavily-shod foot wrenched itself loose, and, 
with a sickening thud, came against the boy’s 
forehead. 

That was all Roger knew. 


CHAPTER XVII 


HENLEY AGAIN 

“ It’s a nasty cut/’ the country doctor pro- 
nounced. “ A nasty cut/’ he repeated. “ An 
inch higher up and it would have fractured his 
skull.” 

Dobson, feeling very much out of place, and 
not knowing what to do, yet unwilling to leave 
the chamber, was hovering about. Lord Bon- 
haven, all his affected manner dropped, was 
standing beside the physician, and a nurse in 
white cap and apron was busy at a little side 
table. 

The morning sun was streaming in through 
the long French windows. On the bed lay 
Roger, very still and white. 

“ It’s all right, though, doctor, isn’t it? He’ll 
pull through all serene, eh? ” insisted his 
lordship. 

The physician nodded mutely. “ Unless 
anything unforeseen should crop up,” he added 
•aloud. 

“ What in the world made you two youngsters 
climb up that ladder and tackle them alone? ” 


156 JACKSON AND HIS HENLEY FRIENDS 


demanded Lord Bonhaven, as the watchers left 
the room. 

“ Seemed like the easiest thing to do,” mut- 
tered the embarrassed Dobson, shifting about 
uneasily. 

“ Easiest,” repeated his lordship; “ yes, I 
suppose so, of course. It's what one would 
expect Henley fellows to do; they always were 
a bull-headed lot,” at which speech the doctor 
smiled broadly. 

“ That was what old Sir Colin said,” he 
mused, “ when he held the Russians off all day 
long at Inkerman, wasn’t it? Some one asked 
him why he didn’t withdraw. ‘ Oh,’ replied 
the old man, ' it was easier to hang tight.’ 
Same case here, I suppose, me lord.” 

“ The one fellow got away, didn’t he? ” in- 
quired Dobson. 

“ Yes, that fool, Giles, let him get through, 
but we have the other two. I rather think we’ll 
catch the third one soon. Who’d have thought 
the beggars would want that old plate? Why, 
I haven’t seen the stuff since I had my coming 
of age fete.” 

They heard Roger stirring uneasily in the 
room, and Dobson tiptoed back. 

“ Hack it through, hack it through, Henley,” 
mumbled the rambling lad on the bed. 

The nurse soothed him, and Dobson patted his 


HENLEY AGAIN 


157 


hand, as he whispered: “ It’s all right, old 
man, you hacked it through.” 

“ Hang to him, Dob, hang to him,” muttered 
the delirious boy, clinging to his chum’s hand. 

He dozed off as the sun mounted, and by 
evening he was resting comfortably, with every 
chance of his mending in a few days, and Dob- 
son went down into the cool library and wrote 
letters. 

That evening’s mail took out one to Sir 
Henry, his father, sojourning in the south of 
France, and one to Roger’s father, away on 
the banks of the fever-infested Ganges. They 
both ended with the same sentence: “ But 
Yank’s all right now, and he’ll be on his feet 
again in a few days.” 

That accidental trip to Beverly altered the 
holidays considerably. Instead of pedaling 
down the Cornwall coast and back through the 
Somerset country, the lads spent it at Lord 
Bonhaven’s estate, for Roger’s scalp wound 
proved more obstinate than was at first sup- 
posed it would, and the hot August days had 
nearly passed before the doctor pronounced 
him fit. 

Lord Bonhaven turned out to be the most 
hospitable and sympathetic of hosts — a real 
nobleman in act, as well as in name and lineage. 

As Roger gradually gained back his strength, 


158 JACKSON AND HIS HENLEY FRIENDS 


he enjoyed long trips over the Exmoor Forest. 
His lordship’s horses and conveyances were 
always at the boys’ command, but no motor 
car ever chugged into the castle courtyard, for 
Lord Bonhaven was opposed to the modern 
vehicle. A delightful companion did his lord- 
ship prove. Beneath his indolent and affected 
manner, lay a noble and unselfish disposition, 
that showed itself in a hundred thoughtful 
actions, and it was with real regret that at 
last the two chums left behind them the hos- 
pitable turrets and gables of Beverly, shipped 
their wheels to Hamenchelt, and answered the 
roll-call on September the first at Henley. 

“ The old show looks familiar,” observed 
Dobson, as they passed through the great iron 
gates, and made their way with unthinking 
steps towards Murray’s house, with nods and 
handshakes to friends. 

“ I told you we’d be glad to get back, Dob,” 
commented Roger. 

“ Oh, you beggar, it was I told you.” 

“ Well, what’s the diff ; we both agree, then, 
for it is jolly fine to get back, isn’t it? ” 

“ Bet your life,” confirmed Dobson. “ But 
now,” he added, “ comes the grind for the sixth, 
for I suppose we’ll both be expected to be 
whales by Christmas.” 

“ Fifteen weeks, old boy; we can do wonders 


HENLEY AGAIN 


159 


in that time. Hello, Berry, old chap, how’re 
you feeling? How do, Tucker? ” This to the 
two sprats, who were wandering arm in arm 
across the grounds. 

“ Pretty fine, thanks,” mumbled Berry. 
“ Just been up hanging out your notice on the 
den. No end of fellows after dens this half. 
Lucky I got it for you; that beggar, Cossock’s 
fag, was going to nab it, but I drove him off 
and tacked up your name — like his confounded 
cheek.” 

“ Say, have you collared mine, Tucker? ” 
demanded Dobson, becoming alarmed at the 
news. 

“ Bet your life,” responded Tucker. “ I had 
the name up first thing this morning; always 
a grand rush this half, you know.” 

Thus reassured, the boys made their ways to 
their respective dens with confident steps, and 
proceeded to install themselves. The evening 
was busily employed. Callers were plentiful, 
and the fags were kept busily at work preparing 
tea and serving biscuits, jam and other deli- 
cacies. 

At nine next morning roll-call was sounded, 
and Henley entered upon the eighty-first year 
of her existence with the largest number of stu- 
dents ever enrolled upon her books. One thou- 
sand and seventy-nine lads shouted “ Present,” 


160 JACKSON AND HIS HENLEY FRIENDS 

as old Sergeant “ Glum ” growled out their 
names. Over fifty fifth form boys were without 
dens, owing to the unprecedented number of 
scholars, and fortunate was it for the chums 
that their fags, knowing well the Henley ropes, 
had early secured their rooms for them, for at 
the college it was an unbroken rule of “ First 
come, first served.” 

The real grind for Roger and Dobson now 
commenced, for six weeks before the Christmas 
breakup, or just eight weeks away, the terrifying 
ordeal of the Oxford, Junior examination awaited 
them. Andrew Cossock, Bradbury, Dauncy and 
a host of other fifth form boys were entered 
with them. 

“ Well, by Jove, I’ve got to pass,” growled 
Bradbury, as he and the two chums talked over 
the approaching test in Roger’s study the next 
evening. “ My governor says if I don’t he’ll 
take me out of Henley and apprentice me to a 
tailor or something of that sort. No joking, 
though, he will take me out and set me to work 
somewhere at something — a bank, or some- 
thing — if I don’t pull through.” 

“ You had better grind a little harder than 
you are, old man, or you’ll slip up,” advised 
Dobson, for Bradbury was notoriously a loafer. 
Although two years the senior of either Roger 
or Dobson, he was in their form. Only the 


HENLEY AGAIN 


161 


unflagging energy of the fourth form master, 
Mr. Kilgordon, had pushed him into the fifth 
this half, and now his father had determined 
to make him work or drop him from college. 

“ If you’d cut that fellow, Lemming, you’d 
get on better,” Dobson blurted out, in his usual 
blunt style. “ The fellow’s a cad and a rotter 
— just such another as was Walsh and Kemp — 
pulls every one down who gets chummy with 
him.” 

“ Oh, he’s not such a bad chap,” Bradbury 
denied. “ You fellows don’t understand him, 
that’s all.” 

“ Why, he’s no good at all,” Dobson blun- 
dered on; “ he never shows up on the green and 
at studies he’s — ” 

“ Well, at studies, at any rate, he’s all right,” 
Bradbury interrupted. “ Why, he passed this 
Oxford, Junior last half with a rush — seventh 
in all England, you know.” 

“ I was going to say,” Dobson resumed, with 
an injured look, “ that at studies he’s too jolly 
smart. He never grinds like us chaps; you 
never see him sweating; he’s always loafing 
about, smoking in his den. He plays cards, I 
know he does, and he always wins from the 
other chap. There’s something I don’t like 
about him, I tell you.” 

“ Oh, you’re set against him because he runs 


162 JACKSON AND HIS HENLEY FRIENDS 


under wraps all the time; you’ve never seen 
Lemming extend himself yet in his studies; 
you shouldn’t be down on a chap because he’s 
smart enough to do what you can’t.” 

“ Well, I don’t like the beggar; there’s 
something rotten about him, I tell you,” growled 
the unconvinced Dobson, who always pos- 
sessed strong likes and dislikes. 

“ It’s none of our business, though,” sug- 
gested Roger, as Bradbury was going, “ and 
if you like to chum with him, why, that’s for 
you to decide, Bradbury.” 

“ Of course,” agreed Bradbury, and departed, 
whistling merrily, as if no such ghost as an 
Oxford, Junior existed. He made his way to 
Lemming’s den, and spent the hot evening 
playing “ odd man out ” in company with 
another congenial spirit. 

Just after eleven the odd man departed, 
leaving Lemming and Bradbury alone. They 
shared their den in common, on account of the 
crowded condition of the school, and as they 
prepared for bed, the talk turned towards the 
approaching examination. 

“ Say, old man, I’ll have to buckle down to 
hard work and cut out all this fun business,” 
announced Bradbury, imbued with a weak 
resolve to turn over a new leaf. 

“ Oh, rot, don’t bother so confoundedly. 


HENLEY AGAIN 


163 


I’ll coach you along all serene and put you right 
where you’re weak,” his companion comforted, 
tossing the end of his cigarette into a spittoon. 

“ I know, you’re so jolly well on edge all the 
time, but I can’t get things into my head like 
you can; I’m slow.” 

“ Lots of time, lots of time, my boy; it’s 
weeks away yet. Goodnight; I’m off to sleep.” 


CHAPTER XVIII 


A CRISIS FOR BERRY AND TUCKER 

Roger Jackson set to work with characteris- 
tic energy to prepare for the forthcoming test, 
and Dobson plodded along in his bull-dog 
fashion. The American was really brilliant in 
certain studies, but poor Dobson had nothing 
on which he could depend but his steady plug, 
plug, plug. Slow to grasp a thing, once he had 
it, it never escaped him again; he was master 
of it for all time, whereas, Roger, like so many 
other brilliant scholars, often discovered that 
the point had got away from him. The two 
formed a splendid team, however. The quicker 
wits of the American would often seize upon the 
kernel long ere the plodding Dobson had even 
seen it, but following steadily with sure steps 
after his chum, the English lad, in turn, would 
as frequently point out some error in figures or 
logic that had been passed over by the more 
rapidly traveling Roger. So, together, they 
helped each other along, covering the eleven 
subjects in thorough fashion that spoke well for 
the ultimate results. 


CRISIS FOR BERRY AND TUCKER 165 


Meanwhile, matters were going badly with 
the two juniors, Berry and Tucker. What little 
Captain Josiah Dobbs had heard from his 
position behind the old elm tree last term had 
not been sufficient to enable him to form a true 
deduction as to the blackmailing that was 
being carried on by the old blackleg, “ Bunny ” 
Dutton. In fact, that scamp had succeeded in 
a rather complete degree in throwing dust in 
the old sea-dog’s eyes, and the sailor had not 
even mentioned the subject to Roger or Dobson 
when they had visited him at Minehead. 

To Roger, engrossed though he was in the 
examination preparation, it was obvious that 
something was decidedly “ off ” with his fag, 
and even the duller wits of Dobson perceived 
that his youngster was not all he should be. 

“ What ails you, young ’un? ” demanded 
Roger one afternoon, as his fag absent-mindedly 
ran his shell into the bank. 

“I — I — I think — I rather think I pulled 
the wrong line, you know,” stammered Berry, 
as they drifted clear again. 

“ I should rather think you did. What makes 
you such an ass? You’ll be walking backwards 
instead of forwards; now, then, pull yourself 
together.” 

Roger would hardly have jumped on the 
small boy so severely had he known the trying 


166 JACKSON AND HIS HENLEY FRIENDS 


scene through which he had passed that very 
morning during recreation. 

Dutton had appeared! How the two lads 
had grown to hate the sight of the fellow! He 
beckoned them outside the gates, as usual, 
and then put the proposition straight to them. 

He must have a sovereign apiece that very 
afternoon. He was in a hole. Kind-hearted 
man that he was, he had been foolish enough to 
“ stake ” a comrade, and this comrade had 
“ welshed ” him. No, nothing less than a 
quid each would do. He must have it. They 
hadn’t got it? Well, they must get it. He 
wasn’t going to go on for ever shielding a 
couple of fool lads and keeping them out of 
prison. Not much. “ Borrow it, then,” he 
told them curtly. A pound from each he was 
bound to have that very afternoon. It was up 
to them to get it. If it wasn’t in his hands by 
six that evening, up to the gaffer he was going, 
and going to “ peach,” too. He’s had enough of 
fooling around with them for their measly bobs 
and half crowns. 

The two youngsters, frightened half to dis- 
traction, had slunk away from him with many 
promises of “ ponying up ” that evening, yet 
completely at a loss as to where they could 
obtain the necessary funds. Both were head 
over heels in debt to their respective men. 


CRISIS FOR BERRY AND TUCKER 167 


Tucker had almost broke his brother by his 
incessant demands for money, and their people 
at home had been importuned several times by 
letter. The inexperienced boys were like clay 
in the rogue’s hands. He had so worked upon 
their fears that they now looked upon their 
escapade of visiting the cave as really a criminal 
offense. In reality, their only offense had been 
in breaking bounds and being out after night- 
fall. Had they told their men, or even gone 
boldly to their house master, the error would 
have been settled by the imposition of “ lines ” 
and probably detention during half -holidays — 
certainly nothing more severe than that. Yet, 
instead of coming up like little men and taking 
their medicine, they had continued paying the 
blackmailer and living in a constant state of 
terror. 

Now the climax had arrived. They had come 
to the end of their resources. Their borrowing 
powers were exhausted, unless they went to 
Tucker’s brother or their men and made a 
clean breast of the whole affair. 

“ Let’s do it,” proposed the bolder Tucker, 
in desperation. 

But the more timid Berry held back. “ I 
dare not,” he whined. 

“ Well, what shall we do?_We can’t get the 
money by to-night.” 


168 JACKSON AND HIS HENLEY FRIENDS 

“ Can’t you get it from your brother? ” 
fearfully questioned Berry, catching at a last 
hope. 

“ I told you he hasn’t got any tin. He’s 
broke; I’ve stumped him.” 

“I’m going to bunk!” whispered Berry, 
looking up with frightened eyes at his chum. 

“Bunk!” echoed Tucker. “Bunk where 
to? ” 

“ To the cave,” announced Berry, with tragic 
emphasis. 

“ To the cave! ” repeated Tucker dully. 
Then, a light breaking in on him. “ We might,” 
he allowed. “No one could ever find us there.” 

“ He knows it’s on the hill somewhere.” 

“ Yes, but he could never find it; let’s scoot 
to-night, Tuck.” 

There came a momentous pause. Both lads 
were turning over in their small minds the 
proposition. It sounded alluring to them. 
They had had weeks and weeks of worry and 
harassment. There on the lonely hill, in the 
seclusion of that cave, was peace. Freedom 
from anxiety; freedom from Dutton. The after 
consequences, how long they would stay there, 
what they would eventually do, did not trouble 
them. The present — the ever present — was 
uppermost in their thoughts. 

Suddenly Tucker faced his chum. His face 


CRISIS FOR BERRY AND TUCKER 169 


wore a desperate look. His small fists were 
clenched in intensity. 

“ I’ll go you,” he whispered harshly. 

“ To-night,” urged Berry. 

“ Yes, to-night.” 

“ After roll-call? ” 

“ After roll-call.” 


CHAPTER XIX 


PLANS 

The runaway plan proceeded with the im- 
petuosity of youth. The idea ran like wildfire 
through the minds of the youngsters. 

“ We’ll answer roll-call at five, and then get 
our truck together and slope. The beggar will 
be up here just before prep this evening, but 
we’ll miss him, and be on the hill by that time,” 
Berry planned. 

“ The only thing is that it’ll be light; some 
one may see us going,” Tucker demurred. 

“ No. We’ll get leave and head towards 
town, and then turn about and make for the 
hill.” 

“ All right, then, but what about grub and 
stuff? We’re so confoundedly short. How 
much can you muster? ” 

“ Not a penny. I’m clean broke. But I’m 
going to sell my white rats and that spliced 
‘ Lillywood ’ bat to Billings; he’s been wanting 
them badly, and I’ll get six bob for them. 
What can you make? ” 

Tucker dived into his trousers pockets and 


PLANS 


171 


pulled out a little collection of small silver and 
coppers. 

“ All I've got,” he mourned, “ but perhaps,” 
he added hopefully, “ there’s something I can 
sell, too.” 

“ There’s our two watches; we might pawn 
them.” 

“ Certs, when we go to town. Why, we’ll 
get a lot for them.” 

“ I’ve never been in a pawn shop. Do you 
know how to do it? ” 

“ Why, why, I suppose you just go in and get 
them to take them.” 

“ No, it won’t go,” Berry said, shaking his 
head, after thinking it over. “ The fellow would 
be surely suspicious. You know, it’s out of 
bounds, and the shopkeepers have orders to sell 
nothing to us or buy nothing of us. Better just 
go with what we have or can get here, or we’ll 
get nabbed and brought back perhaps.” 

“ All right, then; we’ll buy all the grub we 
can and hide there. Say, it’s going to be a 
lark, all right. I’ll be glad to shake the old 
school.” 

“ So’ll I. Now, whatever you do, don’t blab 
to any one. Don’t let a kid know; just go 
about as usual.” 

That advice sounded easy, but it was difficult 
to “ go about as usual ” with so exciting an 


172 JACKSON AND HIS HENLEY FRIENDS 


adventure as running away from school and 
hiding oneself in a cave staring one in the face. 

“ What’s the matter with you, kid? ” de- 
manded Maxwell, as Tucker ran into him full 
tilt around a sharp turn in the fives shed, and a 
cage full of white rats fell to the ground. 

“ Nothing — nothing — I’m just carrying 
Straw’s rats for him.” 

“ Well, why don’t you look where you’re 
going, not butt into a chap like that? ” growled 
Maxwell. 

The youngster hurried past, and soon re- 
turned with the money realized from the animal 
sale. Berry had already sold his bat, and now 
everything was ready except packing their 
clothes and getting away. 

“ If that beggar wasn’t coming up to-night, 
I’d say wait until dark; it would be much 
easier then,” Tucker argued. 

“ I know, but it won’t do; he’ll be up sure, 
and then he’ll go to the doctor and tell for 
certs. No, we must get away at once after 
roll-call.” 

The lads between them had realized a capital 
of nearly nine shillings, which they intended to 
expend in “ grub.” 

The day had been a hot one, and now, as the 
evening neared, there came every promise of a 
thunder-storm. There were threatening rum- 


PLANS 


173 


bles of distant thunder, and now and again a 
faint illumination. Dark clouds were gathering 
from the west, and piling up high on top of one 
another. 

Roll-call was at five, and each lad felt a 
peculiar difficulty in making the reply. It was 
the last roll-call they would answer. 

“ Here,” squeaked Berry. 

“ Berry! ” loudly repeated the sergeant. 

“ Here, sir,” piped the lad again. 

“ Why didn’t you answer first time? ” 

“ I did, sir.” 

“ Speak out! Speak out! I can’t hear what 
you say.” 

“ I said I did, sir.” 

Ugh,” and the drill-master rattled on with 
the names. 

Tucker swallowed a lump in his throat, and 
yelled: “ Here, sir! ” so loud, that the sergeant 
stopped and glared at him. 

It was over at last, and the two lads looked 
anxiously about. It appeared to their guilty 
consciences that every boy must know they 
intended to run away. They were left to them- 
selves, however. Murray’s sprats were too 
much interested in themselves to bother about 
two moody kids. 

“ Now,” whispered Tucker, as they reached 
the shelter of the gymnasium, “ now for it! 


174 JACKSON AND HIS HENLEY FRIENDS 

Let’s sneak up to the dormitory and take out 
what we want.” 

But another delay came. They met Dobson 
searching for his fag. He wanted his flannels 
taken to the cleaner before preparation com- 
menced. 

“ Here,” he cried, “ here’s a pass; I’ve got 
it all ready signed for you; now hurry up.” 

“ Can Berry go with me? ” inquired Tucker. 

“ All right; I’ll put his name on, too. You 
cut back to the room and get it signed. Now, 
hurry.” 

The boys hurried. Fortune was playing into 
their hands at last. They would be able to 
get to town without any questions being 
asked. 

Five minutes later, passes in hands, they 
walked swiftly through Henley’s gates, and 
headed for town. 

Twilight was just falling. In the distance the 
low rumbling continued. Behind them the 
lights of the old school were just commencing 
to spring up at scattered points. In their 
pockets were passes for two, and nine shillings 
and fourpence. Wedged up inside their clothes 
were various articles such as the lads conceived 
they might require. 

“ Good-by, old prison,” growled Tucker. 

Berry said nothing, but he looked back, 


PLANS 


175 


and something almost like a sob arose to his 
lips. 

They had left Henley. 

They had run away! 


CHAPTER XX 


EMPTY COTS 

At nine o’ clock that night a terrific thunder- 
shower raged. The lightning flashes came in 
rapid succession, followed by almost instan- 
taneous crashes of thunder. 

Roger poked his head inside his chum’s 
room. There was a troubled look on his face. 

“ By Jinks, what a storm! ” ejaculated Dob- 
son. “ What’s the matter, old man; stuck? ” 

“ No,” replied Roger, “ I’m hunting for 
Berry. I want the beggar, and I can’t find him 
anywhere.” 

“ Gone to roost, I suppose.” 

“No. Sprat call hasn’t sounded yet — there 
it goes now, by Jove! ” 

“ Well, it’s no use, then; he can’t do anything 
for you; sit down, old man. Say is ‘ the uncle’s 
garden ’ masculine or feminine? ” 

“ Oh, it’s masculine, of course, you old duffer; 
won’t you ever get into your skull that nouns 
take their genders from that which governs 
them? ” 

“ Pretty thing,” grinned Dobson. “ A mas- 


EMPTY COTS 


177 


culine garden! Why, in the name of common 
sense, don’t they have a neuter gender in 
French? ” 

For a while the two “ grinders ” worked over 
the difficult passages, and finally Dobson was 
straightened out. Then Roger said : 

“ Say, I believe I’ll run up and see if Berry’s 
asleep. I had a letter from his brother on 
to-night’s mail, and he sent me a postal order 
for a pound for him; I’ll give it to the kid 
to-night; it’ll make him feel good and he’ll 
sleep fine — back in a moment, old man,” and 
the big-hearted Roger left the study and leaped 
up the broad stone stairs three steps at a 
time. 

A single light was burning in the long dor- 
mitory, but all the youngsters were in bed. 

Roger hurried along on tip-toes to number 
seventeen — Berry’s cot — next to which 
Tucker claimed number eighteen. 

“ Say, kid,” he commenced in a whisper, so 
as not to arouse any sleepers, then he stopped, 
and stood staring at the cot. 

It was empty! So was Tucker’s, next to it! 

Roger wheeled about and glanced around the 
room. The lad two cots away propped himself 
up and called softly: “ The beggars didn’t 
show up for bed to-night.” 

“ Know where they are? ” questioned Roger. 


178 JACKSON AND HIS HENLEY FRIENDS 


“No, but they had passes, and I suppose 
they’ve got caught in the storm, and are 
late.” 

“ Why, it’s half-past nine now; they’ll get 
lines for it. Didn’t the monitor notice their 
absence? ” 

Another lad, half dozing, muttered something 
about “ the jolters putting them down for an 
impot,” and Roger slipped noiselessly away. 

He routed Dobson up again just as he was 
settling down for a long wrestle with his French 
verbs. 

“ Say, Dob,” he cried, “ I can’t find the young 
beggar anywhere, nor your kid, Tucker. 
They’ve neither of them returned from town 
yet; where’ d you suppose they can be? ” 

“ Search me,” muttered Dobson, “ I suppose 
he’s hung up by this thunder-storm — say, 
what’s: 1 II dut la vie d la clemence et a la 
magnanimity du vainqueur? ’ He owed his life 
to — ” 

“ Oh, I don’t know. Shut up a minute. 
What about these two kids? The storm’s 
almost over; what holds ’em? ” 

“Wait a minute,” implored the nearly dis- 
tracted Dobson, still wrestling with the sen- 
tence. There, now, what is it? What a chap 
you are, Yank, where that precious kid of yours 
is concerned. They’ll both show up soon. 


EMPTY COTS 


179 


Wait till ten, and then see if they’ve come 
back.” 

“ Dob, old man, IT1 tell you straight, Fm 
worried about the boy; he’s not been himself 
of late; neither has your kid ; there’s something 
wrong with them.” 

Ten minutes was spent discussing the sub- 
ject, and then Roger again ascended to the 
sprat dormitory. All the lads were asleep, 
but neither Berry’s nor Tucker’s cots were 
occupied. 

Down raced Roger again. “ They haven’t 
come in yet, Dob,” he said gravely. 

“ Well, what’s to do? Suppose they’ve got 
into any trouble? It is funny they haven’t 
come in yet.” 

“ I’m going to see the house captain; per- 
haps he’s given them time extension; coming 
with me? ” 

“ All right,” growled Dobson, shutting his 
book with a bang, and springing to his feet. 

It was ten o’clock when they found Blake, 
just coming in from his “ nightcap ” in the 
pool. 

“ I passed nine o’clock checks for the kids, 
and I suppose Murray signed them,” he ac- 
knowledged. “ They should be in long ago.” 

“ I’m going to Mr. Murray,” Roger an- 
nounced, without a second’s hesitation, and 


180 JACKSON AND HIS HENLEY FRIENDS 

followed by the faithful Dobson, he proceeded 
to the house master’s study. 

Mr. Murray wasn’t in. He had gone to town 
to attend some lecture, but his messenger 
showed the boys the pass book, and entered 
upon it for nine o’clock leave were Berry’s and 
Tucker’s names. 

“ What next? ” demanded Dobson. “ Sup- 
pose they can have come in yet? ” 

Again Roger went to the sprat dormitory. 
Again the two empty cots met his eyes. For an 
hour they fidgeted about, going first here, then 
there. The storm had passed, and the new 
moon was showing herself, a slender rim in the 
southern sky. At eleven o’clock they found 
Mr. Murray in, just returned. 

“ Why, is that true? ” he demanded. “ That 
is very surprising. They should have been 
back at nine o’clock. Yes, I signed passes for 
them for that time. They said they were going 
down on your business, I believe, Dobson.” 

“ Yes, sir, but that wouldn’t have taken them 
more than an hour.” 

Mr. Murray reached for his ’phone. He 
called up the porter at the gate. 

No, old John had seen nothing of them; had 
not even seen them go out. Neither had the 
hall porter, nor, in fact, any one, apparently. 
All the room monitor could tell was that neither 


EMPTY COTS 


181 


of them were there at bedtime. He had noted 
that, and placed their names on the report list. 

“ Where had they to go on your account, Dob- 
son? ” inquired Mr. Murray. 

“ To Lyons, the cleaners, sir; I sent Tucker 
there with a pair of flannel trousers to be 
cleaned.” 

“ Where else were they going? Did they tell 
you of any other place, or what were their 
intentions in town? ” 

“ No, sir, unless they told Jackson.” 

Roger shook his head. He looked worried. 
His clean-cut features were almost haggard 
under the rays of the electric light. 

“ Would you allow me to go to town and look 
for them, sir? ” he suddenly requested, looking 
up at the house master. 

Mr. Murray hesitated not a second. “ You 
can go,” he assented. “ You may accompany 
him, Dobson, if you wish.” 

“ Thank you, sir.” 

“ It is late,” Mr. Murray observed, glancing 
at his watch. “ Eleven thirty-seven. It is 
unusually late to give passes; it would be un- 
precedented, in fact; you had better go without 
them. What do you intend to do? Have you 
any plans? Do you know of any place where the 
boys might be liable to be? ” he continued, in 
rapid questions. 


182 JACKSON AND HIS HENLEY FRIENDS 


Both the boys shook their heads. 

“ Well/’ summarized the house master, “ call 
me up and report as soon as you return, regard- 
less of time. I am considerably worried over 
the absence of the lads.” 

Without another word, Roger and his chum 
left the room. 


CHAPTER XXI 


DOMESTIC TRIBULATIONS 

Meanwhile, out through the blackness of 
the storm, the two runaways had fought their 
way upwards until they reached the great hill. 

They had left Dobson’s trousers at the 
cleaners, expended two-thirds of their ready 
money in “ grub,” and just reached the quar- 
ries, when the storm burst upon them. 

It had been threatening for an hour or more, 
and then down it came upon them, with a 
grand flash and a mighty thunder of Heaven’s 
artillery. The skies opened, and the deluge 
came down. 

Drenched to the skin, the two lads struggled 
up, clinging to bush and briar. They had little 
difficulty in finding the way, for many trips 
had made them familiar, and at last, with a 
final shout of: “ Here we are, Straw! ” Tucker 
swung himself down inside the narrow opening. 
Berry scrambled in behind him, and without 
delay, they pushed on through the various 
narrow passages until they reached the circular, 
room-like cave at the very back. 


184 JACKSON AND HIS HENLEY FRIENDS 


There they both flung themselves down, and 
lay panting and resting. 

Outside the storm still roared as loud as 
ever, but in the recess of the great cave in the 
bowels of the hill, scarcely a sound penetrated. 
They were secure. Henley was far away, and 
the cave hid them. Dutton could harass them 
no longer! 

They lay there, exhausted with the hard 
climb, but triumphant. For a few moments 
neither lad spoke, then Tucker grunted: “ I’m 
hungry and wet, Straw; let’s get some grub and 
then go to bed.” 

“ I’m hungry, too, and thirsty,” admitted 
Berry. “ Oh, say,” he cried, “ we haven’t got 
any water! ” 

“ By Jinks,” ejaculated Tucker, “ we forgot 
about that! ” 

It was an oversight, and a bad one, but 
Tucker arose to the occasion. “ Never mind,” 
he consoled, “ there’s a spring down in the 
quarries, and we’ll have to sneak out at 
night, and bring in enough to last for the 
day.” 

“ Yes,” assented Berry, “ it wouldn’t do for 
us to go out in the daytime; some of the quarry- 
men might spot us. Have we got anything we 
can bring it up in, though? ” 

“ Let’s see,” mused his companion. “ Why, 


DOMESTIC TRIBULATIONS 


185 


certs/' he continued, “ we’ll have to scoop out 
those preserves and use the jar for getting 
the water in; we’ll put the jam in this hollow 
place here; it’s nice and clean.” 

“ Let’s do it now,” hastened Berry. “ I’m 
awfully thirsty, and we must get enough water 
so we won’t have to trot out to-morrow.” 

“ Right you are, Straw, but we must wait 
until the storm’s over. By Jinks, I’m wet 
through; wish we had a change.” 

They took out the jam with a piece of slate, 
and deposited it as neatly as possible in the 
hollow rock, but strawberry jam is a perverse 
and sticky substance. It stuck to everything, 
and there was a serious loss. 

“ Believe there’s glue in the darned thing,” 
complained Tucker. “ Never saw such sticky 
stuff — look out, Straw, you’ve got your foot on 
some of it.” 

Tucker laughed, as his chum endeavored to 
scrape off the delicacy, and laughed so hard 
that he had to sit down. 

“ Look out! ” yelled Berry in alarm. 

It was too late. Tucker had sunk limply 
down on the whole mass of jam, as it lay in a 
comfortable little heap on the rock. 

“ Gosh! ” ejaculated the lad, looking around 
in an endeavor to observe the damage. 

“ Stay still! ” shouted Berry, “ stay still, you 


186 JACKSON AND HIS HENLEY FRIENDS 


ass, and 111 try to scrape it off; most of it’s 
stuck on your trousers. You are a fool, 
Tuck! ” 

The wreck of the strawberry jam was finally 
saved, but only a fraction of the first amount; 
the rest was deposited about in various places, 
and Tucker, with a sticky mass clinging to the 
seat of his trousers, was afraid to sit down. 

“ It’s too bad,” he mourned, “ but we’ll have 
to be more careful; where’ d you put the bread, 
Straw? ” 

“ Here it is, but, by Jinks, it’s got wet; it’s 
like dough! ” 

“ We’ll have to put it in the sun to dry to- 
morrow — don’t touch it now — there, now 
you’ve got dough all over your fingers — leave 
it alone, you duffer! ” 

The rain had played havoc with a lot of their 
provisions, but there was hope in the morning 
sun, and meanwhile, the lads discovered that 
the storm had abated, and took their crock in 
which the jam had been, and proceeded to 
climb down to the quarries, where they washed 
it at the spring that gushed out there, and then 
refilled it with the cool, sparkling fluid. Then 
they climbed back. 

“ Now we’ll open that tin of tongue, and — 
oh, pshaw, the bread’s dough, isn’t it? Well, 
we’ll have to eat biscuits with it, and wash it 


DOMESTIC TRIBULATIONS 187 

down with water. Come on, Berry, open the 
thing.’ * 

Berry had hold of the tin of potted tongue, 
and was turning it helplessly around and 
around in his hands. 

“ Say,” he ejaculated, “ how’re we going to 
open the thing? ” 

“ Open it? ” repeated Tucker. “ Why — 
why — of course — why, we should have a can 
opener, I suppose; we forgot that. Get a rock 
and bust it in.” 

A large, sharp stone was found, and the tin 
pounded. It bent and twisted into every 
conceivable shape, but not a seam came un- 
done. 

“ You’re mashing the thing all up,” growled 
Tucker crustily. “ Here, let me have it.” 

“ Wish you would; never saw such an obsti- 
nate thing,” said Berry, yielding up the poor, 
misshapen can. 

Tucker hit and pounded. He endeavored 
to cut it with the sharpest part of the stone. 
The can gave way, and assumed some other 
shape, but no opening rewarded his efforts. 

“ Hang the thing! ” he exploded, in wrath; 
“ what’s the matter with it? Let’s jump on it, 
Straw; that’ll squeeze it open.” 

They laid the miserable-looking object upon 
the ground, and leaped upon it with vehemence. 


188 JACKSON AND HIS HENLEY FRIENDS 


It flattened itself to a wafer, but remained un- 
conquered and unopened. 

“You fool, you’ll squash all the tongue into 
nothing,” cried Berry, getting alarmed. “ Here, 
let me have it again; I know how! ” 

Again the much-mauled tin of potted meat 
changed hands, and now Berry took it up, and 
hurled it with all his might against an over- 
hanging rock. 

The poor, beaten can had reached the limit 
of its endurance. It opened in a dozen places 
at the same time, and the contents went flying 
in as many directions. 

Both lads groaned aloud, as they witnessed 
the ruin. Then they set to work to gather up 
the fragments, which they deposited beside 
the remains of the jam on the rock. Domestic 
life was presenting unforeseen difficulties. 

They finally ate a part of the tongue and some* 
biscuits, and then, undressing, rubbed them- 
selves dry with some towels they had the 
foresight to bring along, changed into their 
pajamas, and making the bed of some leaves 
scraped in from the outside, where they had 
remained dry beneath a rock, sank to sleep. 

They were tired out — almost exhausted, and 
despite the unusual bed and exciting situation, 
did not wake up until some hours later. 


CHAPTER XXII 


CAPTAIN DOBBS TAKES A HAND 

Roger and Dobson, upon leaving the college, 
had first proceeded to the cleaner’s, Lyons. The 
shop was, of course, shut up, but the proprietor 
lived over his place of business, and the lads 
aroused him. 

He came down, candle in hand. At first he 
was angry, but as the lads explained their 
trouble to him, he relented, and told them all 
he knew. It wasn’t much. Both the runaways 
had come into his shop just as he was putting 
up the shutters. He remembered them per- 
fectly. Yes, they had left the trousers — there 
they were, and he produced the articles. They 
had stayed only a moment or so, giving direc- 
tions that the trousers should be sent back to 
the school in time for the Saturday half-holiday, 
and then left. He thought they went down the 
street, but wasn’t sure. 

It was midnight when the lads came away 
from the dyer’s shop. They had not the least 
idea what next to do. As they stood debating 
beneath the light of a corner lamp, a constable 


190 JACKSON AND HIS HENLEY FRIENDS 

came along on his beat. With him was a stout, 
muscular-looking man. Both boys recognized 
him at once. It was Captain Josiah Dobbs! 

The light of the lamp showed their features 
to the sailor at the same time, and he let out 
one of his customary hails: 

“ Ahoy, ahoy, there, me hearties, what, in 
th’ name o’ the salt sea, be ye a-doin’ here this 
time? ” 

The constable halted, and shot the rays from 
his lantern into the lads’ faces. 

It did not take them long to explain to the 
captain the situation, for they felt safe in con- 
fiding to the honest old tar. 

“ But we don’t want this affair to get into 
publicity,” Roger warned, glancing at the 
policeman. 

“ I ain’t listenin’,” vouched the officer of the 
law. 

“ He’s me wife’s brother,” introduced the 
sailor, “ and he’s gold all right, and maybe as 
he can help us without a-airing o’ things, eh, 
Bob? ” 

“ Belikes,” admitted the officer, “ I ain’t 
got me note-book out,” and he winked at the 
boys. 

“ Well, now, how long can yer stay in town? ” 
demanded the captain. 

“ We should go back right away,” Roger said. 


CAPTAIN DOBBS TAKES A HAND 191 


“ But you has a clean slate, with no ports o’ 
callin’ on it? ” demanded the captain. 

“ Yes,” Roger assented. 

“ That is,” Dobson corrected, “ we were 
given leave to come out and see if we could 
find anything about them, but, of course, we 
must get back as soon as possible, you know.” 

“ Jus’ so, jus’ so,” nodded the sailor. “ Bob’s 
cottage is on North Street; he’s off his beat 
jus’ goin’ home, and me, too, with him, so you 
two come ’long, will ye? I’ve something on 
me mind, young gents. There’s bin something 
wrong with these here young gents o’ yours 
fur some time, fur I knowed ’em by your 
description, and I seen ’em two months ’go, or 
more, afore you come down our part o’ the 
country.” 

“ Saw them where? ” demanded the boys. 

“ That’s wot I’m a-comin’ to,” and then the 
old captain told of his view of the scene outside 
the school gates last term. “ I seen ’em give 
up the ready, and I seen the old scamp, Dutton, 
pocket it. ’Twas my opinion right then, lads, 
as there was something wrong, and I gave chase 
ter the scamp, and put it to him square as he 
was doin’ funny tricks, but he wouldn’t own 
up, the skunk. Since then I seen ’em once more 
in almost the same place when I was up ter 
town Tong with me missus, and when I took her 


192 JACKSON AND HIS HENLEY FRIENDS 


’round ter show her the school. They was both 
on ’em talking ter him at a fast clip, both at the 
same time, and Dutton were a-shaking his head 
and a-growling back at ’em, an’ once he shook 
his fist at ’em, and the poor little chaps talked 
faster’n ever. I beat in smartish close, but 
didn’t show no light nor hail him, but I made 
note in the log-book to signal you next time I 
saw yer, ’cause I knowed as one on ’em was what 
you call 1 fag ’ fur you.” 

“ And the other one fags for Dobson,” in- 
structed Roger. 

“ Right an’ good, right an’ good,” the sailor 
said. “ Have you got yer key, Bob? ” 

Bob had, and the four entered. 

“ Now, then, Bob,” resumed the captain, as 
the four seated themselves, “ if you was any 
kind o’ a detective, ’stead o’ just a plain bobby, 
you might be some use ter us, but anyway, you 
can tell us what time this chap Dutton closes up. ” 
“ Supposed to be at eleven,” the policeman 
said, as he loosened his belt and removed his 
helmet, “ but he runs things much later behind 
drawn curtains, so I’m told — he ain’t on my 
beat, you know.” 

“ Think we’d catch him in now? ” 

“ Maybe.” 

“ Why, you don’t think they are at Dutton’s, 
do you? ” inquired the boys. 


CAPTAIN DOBBS TAKES A HAND 193 

“ I ain’t sayin’, but I thinks they might 

be.” 

“ Oh, they’d never stay out so late as this; 
they’d know it would mean expelling.” 

“ Maybe he’s spoke ’em some time to-day, 
and noted which way they stood when they 
parted,” the sailor suggested; “ anyway, come 
on if ye be willin’.” 

Five minutes later the trio stood before Dut- 
ton’s billiard room and “ public house ” higher 
up on North Street. The place was in darkness, 
but repeated knocks at last raised some one, 
who came quietly towards the door. A head 
was poked cautiously out. 

“ Wot do you want? ” a voice demanded, in 
low tones. 

“ It’s Captain Dobbs,” growled the sailor; 
“ let me in.” And one of the skipper’s stout 
boots found a place inside the door. 

“ I’m gone to bed,” snarled the voice. 

“ Don’t look much like it,” the captain in- 
sinuated. “ Folks don’t smoke cigars in bed as a 
rule, an’ they most always shifts their duds 
’less ’tis a squally night, an’ they be liable ter 
be called ter deck; I be cornin’ in,” suddenly 
announced the sailor. 

“ You be, eh? What the blazes d’you want? 
Well, come on, then,” and the door was opened 
just far enough to permit the three to enter. 


194 JACKSON AND HIS HENLEY FRIENDS 


“ Who’re these blokes? ” demanded Dutton, 
as he observed the two lads. 

“ Mates o’ mine,” vouched the captain. 

“ Darned odd time ter bring ’em. What 
d’you want, I say. Wliat d’you want, anyway? 
Get it hout.” 

“ Lots o’ time,” the captain assured. “ It 
ain’t two bells in the first watch yet, and you 
ain’t no chicken, that I knows.” 

There came a sound of moving, a shuffling of 
feet, and then a light went out. 

“ Ain’t all gone ter bed yet,” grinned the 
captain. 

Dutton swore. “ It’s none o’ your business,” 
he growled, “ who’s hup and who ain’t. Now, 
what d’you want? ” 

“ Sit down,” ordered the skipper curtly, and 
Dutton sat down. “ ’Tis polite,” the sailor 
continued, “ ter offer visitors seats, too, an’ 
ter spring a light; you ain’t sociable-like, 
Mister Dutton.” 

“ There’s chairs,” growled Dutton, and he 
lit a single gas jet. 

They were now in the back room of the place. 
A deck of cards lay on the table before them. 
An overturned spittoon and several cigar ends 
gave evidence of a hasty exit of some recent 
visitors. 

The captain whispered something in Roger’s 


CAPTAIN DOBBS TAKES A HAND 195 


ear, then, turning towards the saloon proprietor, 
demanded curtly: 

“ We wants ter know where them two lads is; 
their names is Berry and Tucker. Just get it 
out quick, Mister Dutton.” 

“ I ain’t seen ’em to-day,” Dutton cried, 
rather taken aback. 

“ That’s a lie! ” snapped Captain Dobbs, 
between his teeth. 

“ No man’s a-goin’ ter call me a liar hin me 
hown place,” Dutton commenced to bluster, 
but the captain stopped him with a growl. 

“ Yes they be, when yer tells lies. You seen 
’em this mornin’ — er, rather, ’tis yesterday 
morning now. I says, where be they? ” 

“ I tells you I don’t know ’em; I never seen 
’em scarcely.” 

“ Don’t he to me! ” roared the skipper, bring- 
ing his fist down on the dirty table with a bang 
that nearly made the scamp jump out of his 
chair. 

Roger and Dobson stood up ready for any 
trouble. 

It was a very different matter to talk to an 
irate Channel sea captain, with two clean-cut, 
determined youths to back him up, to what it 
was to squeeze blackmail money out of two 
green youngsters, and Mr. Dutton realized this 
at that moment. 


196 JACKSON AND HIS HENLEY FRIENDS 


He looked first at Captain Dobbs, then at the 
two Henley lads. 

“ Well,” he muttered, “ you needn’t flare 
up so darned fast; I’ll own up as I seen the kids 
in ’ere once er twice, and that’s hall Hi knows 
about ’em.” 

“ That’s another lie I’ll nail! ” the sailor 
roared. “ Didn’t yer come up ter school last 
term, an’ didn’t I see yer, an’ didn’t I spread 
canvas an’ come up to yer, yer blackleg. An’ 
didn’t I see the lads hand ye out some coin, an’ 
didn’t I see ye with ’em only a short time 
’go? What’ re yer lying ter me fur? First 
thing I’ll have ye in the brig, double irons and 
ten days bread and water. You ain’t dealin’ 
with no kids now.” 

“ You’re drunk.” Dutton commenced to 
bluster again. 

“ Not a drop in me,” denied the captain. 

Dutton was touching him on his particularly 
sore point now, and it angered the old man. He 
grabbed the fellow by the collar, and almost 
shook him. Roger and Dobson spoke no word, 
but both pushed up close behind their friend, 
ready for action. 

“ ’Ere, let go, don’t be so darned touchy,” 
muttered Dutton, now rather cowed by the 
turn events had taken. “ I was only jokin’.” 

“ ’Tain’t no time fur jokes,” snapped the 


CAPTAIN DOBBS TAKES A HAND 197 

captain. “ There's squalls ahead; you'd better 
shorten canvas." 

“ I tell yer I don’t know nothin' about these 
young gents. They said as they'd see me to- 
night, but — " 

The fellow stopped, evidently realizing that 
he was talking too much. 

“ Eh, they did, did they? And wot was they 
ter see you 'bout? " demanded the captain, 
quickly catching on. “ Wot was yer business 
with 'em, Mister Dutton? " 

“ They owes me money," growled the saloon 
keeper. 

“ Wot fur? " 

“ None er yer business; they’re welchers, 
anyway." 

“ Bin bettin' with 'em, I s'pose." 

It was a long, wordy warfare that ensued, but 
in the end, the friends of the two runaways 
were convinced that Mr. Dutton knew nothing 
of the present whereabouts of either Berry or 
Tucker, and were also aware that the blackleg 
had been “ squeezing " them. 

“ Aw, they’ll show hup," Mr. Dutton assured 
his visitors, as they were leaving him. “ They’re 
just takin’ a night hoff ter enjoy themselves." 


CHAPTER XXIII 


CONFERENCES 

It was early morning, although still dark, 
when the lads arrived at the college. 

It had been an anxious night for Mr. Murray, 
who was really alarmed lest the lost lads had 
fallen into the river or some other terrible mis- 
hap had befallen them. He had informed 
Doctor Proctor of their absence, and Roger and 
Dobson were at once sent to the principal of 
Henley. The old gentleman arose from his 
bed and came down-stairs to meet them. 

“ No, sir,” Roger informed him, when asked 
for an opinion, “ I think no accident has come to 
them; in fact, sir, I — I rather, rather think 
they’ve run away.” 

“ Run away! ” echoed the doctor blankly. 
“ Why, why, do you really entertain that idea, 
Jackson? But to where? For what purpose? 
What would induce them? ” 

“ I think, sir, that in some way they have got 
into this man Dutton’s fingers, and he’s been 
bleeding them of cash,” and then the young 
American went on to tell the doctor of the 


CONFERENCES 


199 


straitened state of his fag’s and Tucker’s 
finances; of how they had been borrowing right 
and left of late, and yet never appeared to have 
any money. “ And I believe, sir,” he concluded, 
“ that this fellow Dutton has been taking it 
away from them as fast as they got hold of it.” 

“ Why, really, really, now,” the doctor 
mused, leaning back in his chair and looking 
thoughtful. 

“ Yes, sir, Captain Dobbs saw them giving 
the fellow money on one occasion, and talking 
to them only lately again. Dutton, himself, 
acknowledged that they owed him money, and 
had ‘ welched,’ as he called it.” 

“ I shall send for this man Dutton at once,” 
the doctor said in his decisive manner. “ I 
have received one or two complaints regarding 
him of late. I will not permit any of my boys 
to frequent his resort; it is most demoralizing 
— most demoralizing for the entire school. Go 
to your beds, young gentlemen, and get some 
rest. It is most unfortunate that this affair 
has occurred at this period when you are both 
engaged in preparing for your examination, but 
I must request that you again attend here at 
nine o’clock to-morrow morning. Go to your 
rooms now and get what rest you are able to 
between now and that time.” 

The lads went to their rooms, but it was little 


200 JACKSON AND HIS HENLEY FRIENDS 

sleep that Roger found there. He was worried 
— worried far beyond the permitting of sleep. 
His devotion to “ old ” Berry had led him to 
take far more than an ordinary interest in his 
brother, “ young ” Berry. He had considered 
that, in a way, he was responsible for the 
youngster, for had not “ old ” Berry committed 
his brother to his care? He lay awake puzzling 
and puzzling over the disappearance. Where 
could the youngsters be? He got up and made 
himself a cup of strong tea, and then sat down 
to rest and think again. 

Dobson had roused Tucker, primus, his fag’s 
brother, and, in the latter’s room, the two boys 
went over the extraordinary happening, but 
there was nothing the elder brother knew, 
except that his brother had been borrowing 
heavily of him of late, and that he had remon- 
strated strongly with him. Dobson had the 
same story to recount. 

“ This fellow, Dutton’s, at the bottom of it 
all,” Dobson asserted, “ I know that. We must 
make that chap tell all he knows, that’s all 
there is to it. He knows where your brother and 
young Berry are.” 

“ The blackleg shall be made to tell,” Tucker, 
primus, threatened. 

Other heads, older than the lads’, were work- 
ing over the complications. Doctor Proctor 


CONFERENCES 


201 


and the Rev. Milton Murray held a conference 
soon after eight o’clock the next morning, and 
as a result, a messenger was sent to Captain 
Dobbs at his brother-in-law’s house, where he 
was staying. 

The note was short, and to the point. It 
read: 

a My dear Captain: — Kindly call at the 
college on important business as soon after you 
receive this as possible, and oblige, 

“ Yours very truly, 

“ Henry J. Penn-Proctor.” 

The note and the gallant captain passed one 
another, and just five minutes after Roger and 
Dobson were ushered into the presence of 
the principal of Henley, a servant announced 
Captain Dobbs. 

“ Conduct him in,” the doctor commanded, 
and the worthy old seadog rolled into the 
room. 

He was not in his usual high spirits, but 
simply boiling over with energy and resolve. 
He looked as he looked on the poop of his own 
brig when the mercury in the barometer had 
been falling steadily for forty-eight hours, and 
a lowering sky and gathering wind gave promise 
of dirty weather ahead. He saluted the as- 


202 JACKSON AND HIS HENLEY FRIENDS 


sembled masters and boys in seaman-like man- 
ner, and then inquired: 

“ Tis out boats and awa*y, ain’t it, sir? ” . 

“ Just as soon as we find our bearings, Cap- 
tain,” responded Doctor Proctor. 

“ A mighty important matter,” acknowledged 
the sailor. 

“ I have sent for this man Dutton,” the doctor 
continued, “ and he should be here very soon; 
that is,” he added, “if he comes, and I have 
reason to think he will.” 

“ Nothin’ heard, sir, o’ course, o’ the young 
gents? ” 

The doctor shook his head. 

“Be so good, Captain,” he requested, 
“as to tell us all the facts in your posses- 
sion.” 

Then the sailor recounted what he had seen 
from behind the elm tree that day when the 
boys paid Dutton, and again his second view 
of the meeting only a few days ago. 

“ ’Tis plain as the name on me brig, sir, wot’s 
happened,” he summed up. “ These young 
gents’ been running free a bit with a wet sheet, 
and bin playin’ down there,” he jerked his horny 
thumb townwards. “ They’ve got into shoal 
water, debt, as yer might say, owin’ him fur 
the table rent and such like, and he’s just wor- 
reted them so they cut their cables and stood 


CONFERENCES 


203 


’way under all canvas — deserted, I reckon’s the 
proper name fur it.” 

“ Do you think it is possible that Dutton 
knows where they are? ” inquired the prin- 
cipal. 

“ I doubts it, sir; me opinion is as no one but 
themselves knows that, but I’ll wager new 
bunting with any one as they ain’t fur away.” 

“ Why, captain? ” 

“ ’Cause, sir, in me opinion, they ain’t git no 
cash to go with.” 

“ They have some money, though,” said 
Doctor Proctor, “ for I have been informed that 
the lads sold a bat and some other things to a 
schoolfellow last evening, and in that manner 
obtained nearly half a sovereign.” 

“ Ah,” growled the sailor, looking up from 
under his shaggy brows, “ that may alter 
things.” 

At that moment old John entered the room, 
and announced to Doctor Proctor: 

“ Mr. Dutton, here by appointment, he says, 
sir.” 

“ Admit him,” commanded the principal. 

And the billiard-room proprietor entered with 
a swagger. 


CHAPTER XXIV 


AN UNCOMFORTABLE HALF-HOUR FOR 
“ MISTER ” DUTTON 

The man had experienced considerable diffi- 
culty in making up his mind as to whether or 
not he would obey the summons from the Hen- 
ley head master. Several times he had de- 
clared that “ He wasn’t a-goin’ near the darned 
’ole,” and as many times he had thought better 
of his resolve. 

Conscience makes cowards of us all, and 
Dutton was fully alive to the fact that he had 
been guilty of blackmail. He was not quite 
sure what the next move of Doctor Proctor 
might be, if he did not attend at the school; 
and finally: “ Hi’ll go hup and see wot the old 
fool school gaffer wants,” he muttered, and 
wended his way schoolwards. 

“ Be seated, sir,” commanded the doctor, 
as his eyes fell on the man, and Mr. Dutton 
plumped into a chair and sprawled out his legs 
with an impudent air, then, recognizing Captain 
Dobbs, he gave a slight start, and nodded to 
him in surly fashion. 


AN UNCOMFORTABLE HALF-HOUR 205 

The captain was “ takin’ turns,” walking 
briskly exactly eight paces to the right, then 
wheeling and returning, as if he were on the 
navigating bridge of his brig. Roger and Dob- 
son were seated. 

The doctor at once turned his attention to 
the latest arrival. 

“ Your name is Dutton, I believe — Mr. — 
er — ‘ Bunny ’ Dutton,” he suggested, glancing 
at his visitor. 

“ They calls me ‘ Bunny/ ” admitted Mr. 
Dutton, with a leery grin, “ but Hi’m Mister 
’Enery Dutton to you.” 

“ Well, Mr. Henry Dutton, I wish you to 
inform me why you have been receiving pay- 
ments from two of the lads under my charge. 
You know their names — Berry and Tucker.” 

“ W’o said Hi ’ad? ” began Dutton, with an 
impudent stare, then, recollecting that Captain 
Dobbs was present, and also recalling what 
he knew, he added: “ Wot for? Wot you 
wanter know for? ” 

“ That you will presently discover,” severely 
replied the doctor; “ meanwhile, answer my 
question.” 

“ My business is me own,” announced Dut- 
ton, endeavoring to carry matters with a high 
hand. 

“ You will shortly make the discovery that 


206 JACKSON AND HIS HENLEY FRIENDS 


your business when it touches any of my boys, 
is also mine,” replied Doctor Proctor crisply. 

“ Well, wot you want? ” 

“ Reply to my question, please.” 

“ 'Cause they owed it ter me,” growled the 
1 man. 

“ Indeed. For what? ” 

“ Find out,” blurted Dutton. “ I ain't come 
up 'ere ter be badgered about by a school 
gaffer.” 

“ Dutton,” replied the doctor, in that quiet 
tone of his that had so often proved deceptive 
to the lads of Henley, “ you will answer that 
question, or — ” He made a movement to 
strike his gong. 

The motion was not lost on Dutton. A 
sickly smile overspread his sallow, blotchy 
features. 

“ Wot you goin' ter do? ” he inquired, at- 
tempting to carry the situation off with a joke; 
“ call the p’lice? ” 

“ Most certainly. I shall instruct John to 
send for an officer at once. If I cannot find out 
what I wish from you, my only resort is to 
place the matter of the disappearance of the 
lads in the hands of the police; then they may 
have some questions to ask you. I thought 
perhaps you might prefer to reply to my ques- 
tions rather than theirs.” 


AN UNCOMFORTABLE HALF-HOUR 207 

The doctor was cool as ice- water; his words 
were clear-cut, and his expression might have 
been carved from granite. Dutton commenced 
to mop his head with a dirty-looking handker- 
chief. 

“ Hit’s ’ot,” he complained, “ ’ot; ” then, in 
the manner of one graciously unbending, and 
determining after all to do the right thing, 
“ See ’ere, gaffer,” he purred, “ Hi’ll make 
yer wise — give yer the straight tip. These 
young gents o’ yourn is welchers — that’s 
straight.” 

“ You mean they do not pay their debts? ” 

“ That’s wot.” 

“ Do they owe you money? ” 

“ Bet they do.” 

“ How came they indebted to you? ” 

“ That’s my business,” growled Dutton, 
showing a disposition to kick over the traces. 

“ It is also mine; answer, please,” came the 
cold tones of the doctor. 

“ They’ve howed me for a long time,” 
grumbled Mr. Dutton, feeling the schoolmas- 
ter’s whip, and trotting kindly again, “ an’ 
come yesterday mornin’ Hi told ’em as I 
wasn’t goin’ ter wait no longer, and — ” 

“ I require my question answered, please, 
Mr. Dutton,” interrupted Doctor Proctor. 
“ How came the lads to owe you money? ” 


208 JACKSON AND HIS HENLEY FRIENDS 


“ Things supplied to ’em — things to eat 
and drink and such like,” evasively mumbled 
Dutton, discovering he was still being driven. 

Captain Dobbs made a short stop in one of 
his “ turns,” and started forward, but Doctor 
Proctor stayed him with a gesture. 

“ What is the amount of their indebtedness 
to you? ” he resumed,' still refusing the worried 
man his head. 

“ Two pounds,” blurted out Dutton, reck- 
lessly. 

“ Exactly two pounds? ” 

“ That’s wot.” 

“ And all for liquid and solid refreshments; 
do I so understand you, sir? Be careful, 
please; I require you to itemize the account.” 

“ Hi ain’t got the bill, you old — ” 

But Mr. Dutton stopped, evidently recon- 
sidering his words, and then, reconstructing his 
sentence: “ I ain’t got any bill ’ere.” 

“ There ain’t no bill! ” blurted out old Cap- 
tain Dobbs, unable any longer to contain him- 
self. “ You ain’t got any bill, Dutton, and you 
knows it; if they owes yer anything ’tis for 
table rent and the like.” 

“ ’Taint! ” snapped Dutton, now quite sure 
of his ground. “ They never played a game in 
my place in their lives, you old lobster! ” 

“ Oh, it ain’t, ain’t it? Then I’ll tell you this, 


AN UNCOMFORTABLE HALF-HOUR 209 


it was never run up for drinks and such, fur I 
knows the young gents don’t take nothin’.” 

Both the men were shouting at the top of 
their voices, and Doctor Proctor did not try to 
make his voice heard. 

“ Look ’ere! ” yelled Dutton, working him- 
self into a fury. “ Wot you say if Hi tells yer 
as yer nice, quiet, lamb-like gents was a-roamin’ 
’bout the country all night, a-doin’ God knows 
wot, eh? That makes yer jump, does it? Hi 
thought so. Look ’ere, ’ere’s a nice bit o’ rope, 
ain’t it? Wot’d yer say hif Hi told yer as yer 
little boys was a-gettin’ out o’ their winders 
every night, an’ a-goin’ hover the ’ills and 
heveryw’ere a-scarin’ honest folks ’alf ter death, 
— an’ a-robbin’ of ’em most likely — spring 
’eeled Jack and all them sort o’ tricks; wot 
then, eh? ” 

Doctor Proctor’s face had assumed a startled 
look at first, then, as the blackguard raved on, 
a relieved one. Although he had been so 
closely connected with Henley college for the 
last thirty years of his life, he knew a little of 
men and their ways. He had mixed with the 
great outer world, too. 

Before any of the occupants of the room could 
speak, he arose and stepped forward. One well- 
manicured finger pointed straight at the fellow 
who was storming about the room. His moral 


210 JACKSON AND HIS HENLEY FRIENDS 


force made itself felt, and a hush fell over 
all. 

“Now I understand you, Dutton,” he said 
quietly. “ I quite understand. You have said 
enough. Give me that piece of rope you have 
in your hand.” 

Dutton started to stuff into his pocket the 
yard or so of rope he had taken out. 

For a brief moment there was a battle of 
eyes, but the better man won. Dutton handed 
the rope over, with a snarl. 

“ Take yer darn bit o’ twine; wot ’d Hi want 
hit for? ” 

“ Thank you,” said the doctor, quietly placing 
it on the table. Then turning to the sailor, he 
said: 

“ Captain Dobbs, be so good as to stand be- 
tween this man and the entrance.” 

The old salt, with the joy of battle in his eyes, 
sprang to obey orders as one of his own sailors 
might have done. 

“ Gosh! ” he chuckled half aloud, as his broad 
back went up against the door with a bang, and 
he turned about to face the occupants of the 
room. “ Gosh, I didn’t think it was in the old 
boy; good fur him.” 

Dutton wheeled about like a hunted animal 
at bay. 

“ Wot monkey tricks is this? ” he shouted. 


AN UNCOMFORTABLE HALF-HOUR 211 

“ Get ’way from that door; Hi’m a-goin’ 
hout.” 

“ Come on, then,” grinned the old sailor. 
“ I’m a- waitin’ ter see yer try — come on, me 
hearty! ” 

“ Now,” resumed the doctor, ignoring the 
interruption, and addressing Dutton, “ speak 
up, my man. From where did this rope come? 
How came it in your possession, and how much 
money have you taken for blackmail from my 
two boys? Speak quickly and truthfully; I 
have small time to waste over you just now.” 

When a determined, educated man is matched 
against a swaggering, gin-soaked bully, the 
result never hangs very long in the balance. It 
did not in this instance. Never had the two 
boys, or old John, the porter, or Captain Dobbs 
ever seen the Principal of Henley in the mood 
he was in now. His aristocratic old features 
were grim and unmerciful-looking; his keen, 
gray eyes looked in unflinching determination 
into those of the rogue. 

It took Mister Dutton about fifteen seconds 
to make up his mind, and then he made a 
clean breast of the whole wretched business, 
and when he had finished, and Doctor Proctor 
was convinced that he was ignorant of the 
whereabouts of the cave on the hill, he curtly 
ordered him from the room. 


212 JACKSON AND HIS HENLEY FRIENDS 


“ Go,” he said quietly, “ go instantly, and 
never show your face at Henley again. If I 
have information that you are loafing about 
these grounds, I shall give you in charge as a 
rogue arid a vagabond, and — one moment, 
Dutton, if I hear in the future from any source 
that your resort is harboring any Henley boys, 
a complaint will be made to the proper authori- 
ties; so take care, my man. Recollect, your 
license already has one black mark on it. 
Three endorsements, you know, and the license 
is revoked. Such is the law.” 


CHAPTER XXV 


WATCH THE SPRINGS 

The news of the escapade of Berry and 
Tucker soon became school property. By the 
noon recess it was gossiped about in all the 
forms. It reached the ears of Bradbury and 
Lemming, as these two worthies lolled about 
in their room at noon. 

“ It’s a jolly rum business, isn’t it? ” sug- 
gested Bradbury. “ I didn’t know the kids 
were cutting it wide. They say they’ve been 
down at Dutton’s all last term after hours.” 

“ I never saw them there,” declared Lem- 
ming, “ and,” he added, “ I’m pretty sure I 
would have, had they been there much.” 

This was a self-evident truth to Bradbury, 
too, for Dutton’s resort was much frequented 
by Lemming and other “ sports ” of Henley. 

“ Well, anyway, it’s something between them 
and Dutton, because Dutton was up here this 
morning, and the doctor ‘ laced ’ him. Say, 
Lem, shy that crib over here; I couldn’t get 
the answers to this thing last night and I want 


214 JACKSON AND HIS HENLEY FRIENDS 


to copy them out. Wish I had a crib; can’t 
you get me one? ” 

“ Rather think so; what’s it worth to you? ” 

u Half a quid, perhaps. I’ve got to get a 
move on me if I’m to take this Oxford, Junior; 
it’s right on us, you know.” 

“ Oh, you bother too much.” 

“ You would if you knew as little as I do, 
and the confounded thing was staring you in 
the face a few weeks off.” 

“ Don’t you really think you can struggle 
through? ” inquired Lemming, glancing up. 

“ I’m worried half to death about it,” con- 
fessed Bradbury. 

“ Never worry, my boy; does no good,” was 
the sage advice Bradbury received from his 
crony. 

“ That’s easy said, but hard to put in 
practice.” 

“ Why, great Scott, old man; I’ve lots of 
strings to my bow. I told you I’d see you 
through, and I will; never fear. If not by one 
way, then by another.” 

Bradbury glanced at his chum. “ I don’t see 
how,” he complained. “You may know the 
wretched things, but you can’t load me with 
them.” 

Lemming yawned. “ Oh, great Jinks, you’re 
a dull fellow sometimes, Brad, and no error. 


WATCH THE SPRINGS 


215 


Why, my good fellow, I could put you through 
this exam and never let you see the inside of the 
room.” 

“ What! ” cried Bradbury, in surprise; then, 
“ Oh, stop your fooling,” he remonstrated. 

Lemming whistled a few bars from a popular 
opera. Then he nodded knowingly at his crony. 

“ Never more serious in my life,” he asserted. 

“ How could a fellow^ pass and yet not go 
near the room? ” demanded Bradbury. “ All 
fellows have to show up and take the thing 
personally at Oxford, you know.” 

“ I know that, and yet what I said holds 
good. I say I can get you through and yet 
never have you see the musty old town.” 

“ I know you’re a clever sort of a beggar, 
Lem, but you’re not a wizard, so stop your 
fooling and chuck me that crib.” 

Lemming threw the desired book across and 
then resumed his whistling. He stopped short 
in the middle of a line. 

“ Well,” he yawned, “ when you get to that 
point that you feel dead sure you can’t get 
through, let me know, old chap.” 

“ Wish I knew what you were driving at,” 
complained Bradbury. “ Your talk is all 
Dutch to me.” 

Lemming finished the air, then, with another 
stretch, struggled to his feet. 


216 JACKSON AND HIS HENLEY FRIENDS 


“ We’ll have to be getting back — ten to two,” 
he said, “ but don’t forget, old boy, if you figure 
you can’t do it, call on me, and keep your bank 
roll tight; everything needs that, you know.” 

Bradbury gave his room-mate a bewildered 
stare, and the two passed out and made their 
way to their class-room. 

Neither Roger nor Dobson were at studies 
that day. They had been excused, and at the 
time Bradbury and Lemming were lolling about 
their study, the two chums were far away on 
the steeps of the big hill. With them were 
Captain Dobbs and a quarryman, a fellow who 
knew the hill well. 

“ Cave, cave,” the man repeated, as he 
trudged along beside the two Henley boys and 
the sailor; “ yes, yes, there’s a smartish few of 
them, I’m thinking. The best way, I figures, 
would be to start at ‘ The Seven Springs ’ end 
of the hill and work ’long the brow to the 
‘ Devil’s Chimney.’ I knows four on ’em twixt 
them two points.” 

They followed the man’s advice, and under 
his guidance explored each as they were reached, 
but not a sign of the two runaways did they 
come across. The caves he showed them were 
“ very ordinary affairs,” as Dobson complained 
— simply holes in the hillside running back a 
greater or less distance. Then, at the quarry- 


“ WATCH THE SPRINGS 


217 


man’s suggestion, they scoured the flat table- 
land at the summit, exploring every shanty 
they came across. They inquired at the two 
farmhouses that dotted the highest point. No, 
no one had seen anything of the two lost lads. 

The search party rested, and took lunch at 
one of these farms, and old Captain Dobbs re- 
affirmed his opinion that “ they wasn’t fur away. 
Ten bob, which it seems like is all they had, 
don’t take no one no distance, an’ I’ll wager 
they be somewhere close ’round,” he insisted. 

“ Say,” suddenly exclaimed Dobson, “ do 
you suppose they could have gone home? 
They had enough money to go to Weston, where 
Berry’s mater hangs out, you know.” 

Roger shook his head. “ The doctor wired 
there this morning,” he said, “ and they hadn’t 
gone there. He has sent Mr. Saintsbury down 
there on the early morning train, to find if Mrs. 
Berry knows anything about the affair, and to 
inform her. No, I agree with Captain Dobbs 
that they are somewhere close around. You 
see, Dob, they have a cave on this hill some- 
where that they used to come to — that old 
scamp Dutton got that much out of them, and 
what is more likely than that they ran away 
when he pushed them too hard, and hid in it? 
They are both such kids, you know, and it’s 
about what they would do.” 


218 JACKSON AND HIS HENLEY FRIENDS 


“ If you feels sure as they is hiding some- 
where on this ’ill,” the quarryman broke in, 
“ the best thing as I knows on is to lie low and 
wait for ’em.” 

“ Wait for them? How? What’d you 
mean? ” 

“ Well, ’tis like this, young gents, there may 
be places as I knows nothing of, and most 
likely they’ll be hiding in one on ’em, but 
they’ll have to eat and drink.” 

“ Oh, I suppose they brought grub with 
them; in fact, we know they brought quite a 
lot of things, for one of the prefects who went 
to town this morning discovered they had spent 
quite a few shillings in provisions and such like. 
That’s one reason that makes me think they 
must be close about; they wouldn’t buy a 
stock of eatables unless they intended to re- 
main close, for if they went off to another town, 
for instance, they could easily buy what they 
wanted when they got there, and so avoid 
burdening themselves with things to carry.” 

“ Yes, that sounds reasonable,” agreed the 
captain, and Dobson nodded his head. 

“ But there’s one thing as you ain’t ail 
figured on,” interposed the hillman. 

“ What’s that? ” demanded the lads. 

" Water,” laconically replied the man. 

“ Water. Well, yes, of course, they would 


WATCH THE SPRINGS 


219 


have to get water to drink, but they could get 
that almost anywhere about this hill.” 

“ Aye, that’s true, young masters, but they’d 
have to come out of their cave to get it, I 
figures, ’less there was a spring or something 
of that sort in there by ’em. That’s so, ain’t 
it? ” 

“ That’s so,” acknowledged the captain, be- 
ginning to look interested. 

“ And I say we might cotch ’em when they 
come out,” continued the man. 

u Yes, if we knew where they were.” 

“ Watch the springs, to be sure.” 

“ Might do that, eh, Dob? ” cried Roger. 

“ Where be there any springs on this ’ere 
hill? ” demanded the captain. 

“ There’s the ' Seven Springs ’ as we started 
from, and there’s ‘ Bloode’s Spring,’ an’ there’s 
the quarry ’un, and — and — that’s ’bout hall 
as Hi knows on, but I’ll tell ye straight, young 
masters, if I was you I’d let the young gents 
bide where they be till they gets ready to come 
out themselves; they’ll tire mighty quick, never 
fear, o’ hidin’.” 

“ Oh, we can’t do that,” Dobson negatived, 
with a smile; “ we want to find them and get 
them back as soon as possible.” 

“ Then watch the springs at night,” coun- 
seled the quarryman. 


CHAPTER XXVI 


THE NIGHT WATCH 

That advice sounded wise to the search party, 
and after an all day's fruitless scouring of the 
hill, they returned to the college with the resolve 
to again take up the search after dark. 

Mrs. Berry had arrived from Weston, and 
Tucker's people had joined their eldest son, and 
shared with him the anxiety for the safety of the 
boy. 

The supposition that the two truants had 
taken refuge on the hill had now almost resolved 
itself into a certainty, for several persons had 
been discovered who had actually seen and 
noticed the youngsters headed that way. One, 
an old shepherd, had seen them and nodded 
to them, after the manner of countryside 
people, just before the storm broke, while he 
was engaged in homing his Cotswold sheep. 

As much as possible the authorities at the 
college had prevented the unfortunate affair 
from becoming public, but that was a difficult 
matter. At a general assembly, the boys of 
Henley had been instructed not to mention the 


THE NIGHT WATCH 


221 


escapade in town, “ for the sake and reputation 
of the old school, boys,” the doctor had ap- 
pealed, and not a lad had breathed of the affair 
beyond the confines of Henley. 

That night, following the old tollman's 
advice, a strong party of prefects — all senior 
boys, of course --had been divided into half 
a dozen little bands, with instructions to espe- 
cially watch the springs, to go about their work 
as noiselessly as possible, and if possible, bring 
back the erring youngsters. 

With two quarrymen as guides, the party as- 
cended the hill soon after dusk, and were quietly 
stationed along the various water supplies. 

“ There ain't no cave round these 'ere parts 
as I knows on,” the man vouched, as he and 
Roger and Dobson took their stand within a 
stone's throw of the spring in the quarries, 
“ but I reckon as we’d better watch 'em all — 
they'll have to come to get water somewhere, 
I figures.” 

“ If they are on the hill,” Roger said, “ they 
must have obtained water before now, or 
suffered.” 

“ I should say,” Dobson interposed, “ that 
if they are hiding in some cave that Tom, here, 
knows nothing of, it is likely there may be a 
spring in the cave — often there are springs in 
caves, you know.” 


222 JACKSON AND HIS HENLEY FRIENDS 


“Yes,” acknowledged the man, “ that may 
be, may be; ’tis quite likely, young sir; an* 
then again, it ain’t.” 

“ Well, all we can do now is to wait and try 
the plan we’ve adopted,” summed up Roger. 

Tom, the quarryman, and the chums were 
alone. Old Captain Dobbs had been compelled 
to return home, as his brig was clearing from 
lower Channel ports early next morning, and of 
course he had to be aboard. The little party 
lay talking in low tones under the shelter of the 
tall fir trees that girt about the quarries. Be- 
low them, twenty yards away, bubbled and 
gushed the tiny spring from the rocks. 

All was quiet on the lonely hill. The men had 
long since ceased work in the quarries, and now 
only the bleating of some far-off sheep or the 
lowing of cattle broke the stillness of the 
night. 

The quarryman pulled an old clay pipe from 
his pocket, and loading, cautiously shielded the 
light while he struck a match, then puffed 
contentedly. The success or non-success of the 
night’s expedition meant nothing to him except 
perhaps an extra half crown, but to the boys — 
and especially to Roger — the night was fraught 
with momentousness. 

The lads lay silent, and only by gesture was 
communication made. They heard the clocks 


THE NIGHT WATCH 


223 


from the churches in the vale below sound nine, 
ten, eleven, and then midnight. It was a weary 
vigil. It appeared to Dobson that they were 
taking one chance in one hundred that the 
truants might come to that particular spot. 

One o’clock had just sounded from a dozen 
steeples in the town, when the quick, strained 
ears of the American caught the sound of a 
slight rustling. He lay down and placed his 
ear to the soft turf that girt about the edge of 
the quarries. The sound died away again. 

In another moment, however, Tom, the hill- 
man, sat upright, and held aloft his finger to 
command attention. 

Both lads were on the qui vive. For a cer- 
tainty Roger could now detect a rustling from 
the bushes far up the hill behind them. So 
could Dobson, for he looked expectantly towards 
his chum. The quarryman crawled over and 
lay on hands and knees. Then suddenly, almost 
right on them, came a growled whisper: 

“ Look out, Straw, you beggar, you cracked 
my knee with that old jam pot; what’d you 
swing it about like that for? ” 

“ Oh, shut up, don’t talk so loud,” came back 
the hushed rejoinder. 

Tucker, apparently, had stopped to rub his 
injured limb, for the sound of footsteps ceased, 
and mild upbraidings followed. The voices died 


224 JACKSON AND HIS HENLEY FRIENDS 

down, and then sounded again. This time on 
the further side to where the watchers lay. 

The boys saw dark outlines climbing down 
over the rocks. 

“ Follow them/’ urged Dobson, in a hoarse 
whisper. 

The quarryman commenced to get to his 
feet. 

Wait,” cautioned Roger huskily. “ They’ll 
have to come back with their water — see, 
they have a pot of some sort! Let’s move 
around and wait for them at the place where 
they went down; we don’t want them to bolt 
and lose themselves in this place; they could 
easily do it.” 

This advice was followed, and cautiously the 
trio crept around to the summit of the rough 
path by which the truants had descended. 
Then they concealed themselves behind the 
heavy pines, and waited for the return. They 
had not long to wait. 

Apparently the two sprats did not wish to 
linger at the spring, for almost immediately 
they espied them returning with the refilled 
vessel. 

“ Now,” whispered Roger, “ don’t shout at 
them; they’ll only run and we’ll have to chase 
them. Leave it to me; see if I can’t manage 
it. Look out, there; keep back, Dob! ” 



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THE NIGHT WATCH 


225 


There came sixty seconds of absolute silence, 
then the murmur of voices from the approaching 
lads could be heard. Now, the very words, 
something about “ a stiff climb against collar,” 
and then they were upon the watchers. 

Roger stretched out his hand. “ Berry. 
Oh, Berry, old chap,” he called quietly. 

There was a sudden stop, a start, a cry of 
surprise, and then there would have been a 
flight and a chase, had not the American caught 
the frightened youngster and clung to him, 
while Dobson grabbed Tucker. 

“ Let me go, you cad! Let me go! ” yelled 
the frightened youngster, as he struggled fran- 
tically in the grip of the fifth form boy. He 
wriggled and struck. He even bit and scratched, 
in his mad efforts to get free. 

Berry’s struggles were less violent. Roger 
always possessed a restraining influence over 
the boy, and as soon as he realized that “ his 
man ” was holding him, he gave up. 

Almost the first words he panted were: 
“ Has Dutton been up to old Proct yet? ” 

“ Everything’s all right; I’ll tell you about it 
presently,” Roger assured. “ Say, Dob, sup- 
pose you and Tom get word to the other fellows 
and tell ’em they need not watch any longer, 
while Tucker and Berry and I go back to the 
college,” he suggested, turning to his chum. 


226 JACKSON AND HIS HENLEY FRIENDS 


Dobson stopped short and looked at him in 
surprise. 

“ Oh, that’s all right I’ll promise you,” Roger 
said, reading his thoughts. “ Tucker and Berry 
will ‘come peaceable-like,’ as the policeman says, 
won’t you, kids? ” 

“ I’m coming all right,” replied Berry. 

Tucker nodded glumly. 

Roger laughed. It was an uneasy exhibition 
of mirth, but it accomplished what he intended 
it should; it took some of the tragedy out of the 
capture. 

Dobson and Tom departed, rather unwillingly, 
and Roger and the two youngsters were left 
together. 

“ Look here, kids,” Roger went on, as they 
reached the level piece below, “ there’s no use 
in saying that you haven’t got yourselves in 
rather a mess, because you have. But it isn’t 
so awfully bad but that it can be fixed up. 
I’m not going to jump on you, because I know 
you’ve had trouble enough, but I want to 
impress on you that as soon as you get back 
you must make a clean breast of this whole 
wretched business. You’ve been guilty, of 
course, of several things. I’ve talked the affair 
over with Mr. Murray, and he says there’ll be 
three charges against you — breaking bounds, 
overstaying leave, and frequenting with unde- 


THE NIGHT WATCH 


227 


sirable people. You’ll most likely be crimped 
for the rest of the term, and, of course, have 
lines given you, but what’s that? I’m so jolly 
glad to see you both back that I feel like 
kicking up no end of a shindy. It’s bully, old 
boys! ” and Roger wrung the hands of the lads, 
frankly and warmly. 

There was no feeling grouchy over such a 
lecture as this, as Tucker afterwards explained 
to his friends, and the trio proceeded in silence 
schoolward for a few minutes. Then Berry 
timidly inquired: 

“ How about Dutton? You said everything 
was all right, but has he been up? What did 
he say? ” 

“ The scamp was sent for and then he came 
up,” Roger replied, “ and the doctor told him a 
few things, too. He won’t worry you any 
longer, so be easy, kids.” 

That return to school was a trying experience 
for the two lads, but Doctor Proctor, like the 
good old boy he was, tempered his punishment 
with mercy. In reality the hardest part of the 
whole affair was meeting their own schoolmates 
again. The two youngsters were unmercifully 
“ froathed,” but in a week the whole wretched 
business was forgotten in the interest aroused 
by the important events now crowding thickly 
upon one another. 


CHAPTER XXVII 


THE CONSPIRACY 

After that memorable “ jackass business,” 
as Dobson always referred to it, young Berry 
and Tucker took a fresh grip of their school life, 
and put all their energies into wrestling their 
way upwards from the third to the fourth form. 

“ By Jove,” Roger lectured his fag, “ you’ll 
just have to climb up this time; you can’t stay 
a sprat all your life.” 

“ I know it,” Berry admitted. “ Tuck and I 
are both grinding like good ’uns; we’re going 
to pull through; just wait.” 

But while the two juniors had overcome their 
troubles, there was a senior who had some of 
his own. Bradbury had been unable to tear 
himself away from the delights of dissipation, 
and as the day of the test for the Oxford 
examination drew near, he admitted to himself 
that his chances of getting through were slim 
indeed. 

“ Look here, sport,” he confided to his 
crony, Lemming, “ it’s no use my going up; 
I can never make it. I’m not going to show up. 


THE CONSPIRACY 


229 


I shall tell the doctor I can’t take the con- 
founded thing; it’s no use going up there to 
make an ass of myself.” 

“ Rot! ” ejaculated Lemming, “ you can get 
passed all right.” 

“ I tell you I can’t. What’s the use of fooling 
me like that? I know what I can do and what I 
can’t. Why, at that test last Tuesday I went 
all to pieces. You should have heard the dress- 
ing down Murray gave me after reading my 
papers.” 

Lemming sat gazing at his companion with a 
half amused expression on his sallow face. 

“ You ass! ” he suddenly exploded. “ Don’t 
you know there’re more ways than one of killing 
a pig? ” 

“ That’s all right; call me an ass; I deserve 
it, but I don’t see what you mean by the last 
question — about the pig.” 

Lemming laughed — unpleasant mirth. 

“ Look here,” he half whispered, as he drew 
his chair over and lowered his voice, “ you’re 
flush, aren’t you? ” 

“ Flush!” echoed Bradbury, glancing up in 
a startled manner. “ Flush? Oh, yes, I sup- 
pose so; why, are you broke as usual? ” 

u Bet I’m broke,” admitted his companion. 
“ I haven’t a millionaire dad like you, you 
know. Why, I remember when you first came 


230 JACKSON AND HIS HENLEY FRIENDS 


down that you had a bank roll of nearly a 
hundred.” 

“ Oh, I know, the good governor always puts 
me right for that, but I haven’t that much now 
— you’ve had some of it, you know,” and 
Bradbury gave Lemming a meaning look. 
“ Anyway,” he resumed, “ what has that got 
to do with this beast of an exam? I can’t pass 
if I had a thousand.” 

“ Don’t you be so jolly cock-sure, old chap.” 

Bradbury started. “ What d’ you mean? ” 
he queried. 

“ What’s the size of your roll now? ” de- 
manded Lemming. 

“ Oh, I don’t know. I’ve about eight quid 
on me and some thirty-eight or forty in the 
bank.” 

“ Guess you could raise a pony altogether? ” 
suggested Lemming. 

“ I suppose so. Why? ” 

“ See here,” suddenly demanded Lemming, 
“ how much would you give to pass? ” 

Bradbury flushed. 

“ Almost anything,” he groaned. “ It’s no 
use, though; I haven’t a ghost of a chance.” 

“ Don’t be so jolly cock-sure of that. I can 
engineer the thing for you — that is, for a 
consideration. Let’s get down to business, 
sport. Will you give me that fifty quid you 


THE CONSPIRACY 


231 


have, and promise me another as soon as you 
can get your governor to pony up, if I pass 
you up? ” 

“ What! ” almost shouted Bradbury. 

“ Shut up; don’t yell so confoundedly loud.” 

“ Well, how can you? What’s the use of 
talking? You know it can’t be done.” 

“ I know it can be done, and I’ll see it done 
for fifty down and the rest as soon as you can 
manage it. I need the money, or I’d do it for 
nothing, sport,” added the boy, rather shame- 
facedly. 

“ You’ll have to explain; I’m afraid I don’t 
quite understand,” stammered Bradbury. “ It 
isn’t anything crooked, is it? ” 

“ Who said anything about anything crooked? 
Nothing’s crooked in this world, my young 
buck; that is, if you don’t get found out.” 

“ Well, how can I pass, then? ” 

“ You can’t, but I can,” retorted Lemming, 
leaning close to Bradbury, and giving him a 
knowing wink. “ See here, this is the scheme. 
I’ve passed once, you know, and I can pass 
again. I may be a bit rusty, but I’ll rub up, 
and I’ll go up to Oxford and take the ‘ Junior ’ 
instead of you, savee? ” 

“ But that won’t make me pass? ” 

“ Oh, you’re an idiot. Don’t you see, I’ll 
be you.” 


232 JACKSON AND HIS HENLEY FRIENDS 

“ You’ll be me.” 

“ Sure. That is, I will, for the considera- 
tion I said. I’ll guarantee your name shall 
appear on the pass list above the ninety mark, 
then you give me the fifty, and the rest 
as soon as you can get it. Does that suit 
you? ” 

“ But they’ll know you. They’ll know it 
isn’t me; all the fellows go up together; and 
besides, it would be crooked, too; oh, I won’t 
do that,” blundered on Bradbury. 

“ Well, then, let it alone. You don’t have to. 
I just thought we might work it together. It’s 
a square deal. I need the money. You want 
to pass. It’s a fair exchange, but I don’t give 
a hang; it’s off, then.” 

“ Wait — wait a minute,” stammered Brad- 
bury, his face, which had gone white, as he 
understood the nature of the proposition, now 
flushing up red with excitement. “ Let’s — 
let’s see — how is it? ” 

“ Just as I said. It’s dead easy, and no one 
will ever know. The fellows all go down as 
they like, you know, but most of them take 
the morning train from here to Oxford. Well, 
of course, you can go with them, but when you 
get there, break away. It’ll be easy to invent 
some excuse — go to see some friends of yours 
— anything you like. The first day’s exam 


THE CONSPIRACY 


233 


commences at noon, so there’ll be lots of time. 
Well, once you leave the chaps at the hotel, 
just make a beeline for this place; I’ll write 
the name down for you. It’s a snug little pub 
six miles out, and you can lie low all day. You 
must get back in time to be seen coming out 
from the college doors, you know, and I’ll 
contrive to get the questions to you as soon as 
I finish, so you can talk decently to the chaps 
about them after the exam. You’ll do the same 
thing next day and the next — it’s generally a 
three-days affair, you know.” 

“ I know, but, but — ” 

“ Hold hard, I’m coming to it. You know the 
authorities at Oxford always take care that 
fellows from the same school never get near one 
another; keep ’em in separate rooms if they 
can, for fear they’ll look over and crib and help 
one another. Well, I’m going to have ‘ my 
cousin ’ write a few days before the exam and 
get a week’s leave for me from Henley, and 
when your name is called out at Oxford next 
Monday, I’ll answer for you, — catch on? 
There’s only one possible trip-up, and that is 
that some of the fellows from here may be in the 
same room, and if they are, of course, I’ll 
have to do a sneak, but I’m going to make it 
my business to see that doesn’t occur, and I 
rather think I’ll succeed.” 


234 JACKSON AND HIS HENLEY FRIENDS 


“ Some one will see you going in or some- 
thing/ ? faltered Bradbury. 

“ Oh, rot, how can they? I wasn’t born 
yesterday, my boy. There’ll be a perfect mob 
there from all over the British Isles to take the 
exam, and I’ll just be George Hume Bradbury 
for two days and a half — that’s all ; why, it’s 
dead easy.” 

“ It — it looks — looks easy,” admitted Brad- 
bury, “ but, but, you know, it isn’t — it isn’t 
fair, you know, Lem.” 

“ Oh, come off ; you’re no kind of a sport. 
Why, I’ll bet it’s done dozens of times every 
exam, and no one ever knows. Are you on, 
or not? ” 

“I — I — think I’d like time to think about 
it,” hesitated Bradbury. 

“ Oh, there’s no need for anything like that; 
besides, if I’m going to take the exam, I must 
sweat up a bit; I’m rusty, but I can shine up a 
bit between now and Monday. Come, make up 
your mind, sport; yes or no. Why, you’re 
like a baby; I don’t believe you have any 
sporting blood in your veins; but, there, I don’t 
mind, just as you say, only decide, yes, or no; 
which shall it be? ” 

Bradbury was fast losing the battle now. 
Already his real self was in retreat. His false 
was taking its position. There was a mo- 


THE CONSPIRACY 


235 


mentous pause. Then: “I — I think — think 
IT1 go you,” he muttered. 

“ All right; that’s the best deal you ever 
made/’ congratulated Lemming. “ Now, you 
understand how it’s to be. I’m to pass in your 
name above the ninety mark, and when the 
list’s out you’re to pony up fifty quid — here, 
we’ll put it down on paper; it’s more business- 
like.” 

In a few minutes the agreement was drawn 
up, and with a hesitating hand, Bradbury 
signed. Then Lemming put his name below. 
He made a copy and handed that over to Brad- 
bury, but that wasn’t signed. 

“ Now,” he proposed, “ let’s have a drink,” 
and opening his little cupboard, he produced a 
bottle and two glasses. 

“ Here’s to your success in 1 The Oxford, 
Junior,’ ” he toasted. 

Bradbury said nothing. He drained his glass, 
and then pushed it towards Lemming, who 
refilled it. 

“ By Jinks, your hand is all of a tremble,” 
Lemming commented. 


CHAPTER XXVIII 


COMING SPORT 

Henley was a busy school those fall weeks. 
There was the coming “ Oxford, Junior,” the 
form examinations, and last, but not least in 
the estimation of the boys, the annual fall 
“ paper chase.” 

The cross-country run was not bothering the 
two conspirators, but Roger, who had qualified 
as “ hound leader,” Maxwell, his “ huntsman,” 
Cossock, the “ whipper-in,” and Neale and 
Forrester, the two crack cross-country men, 
who had made good as “ hares,” were all busily 
engaged, despite the near approach of the 
examinations, in putting the last touches on 
their condition. 

Now that the anxiety of his fag’s disappear- 
ance had been removed and everything going 
“ swimmingly,” as he put it, the American was 
rapidly getting to the keen edge both mentally 
and physically. Dobson, while he possessed 
staying powers, was too chunky for the long 
distance, and was merely running as a “ hound.” 

“ But you had better keep up, old man,” 


COMING SPORT 


237 


threatened Cossock, as he and the two chums 
chatted over the approaching event, “ or look 
out for my whip round your legs.” 

“ That’s no joke,” retorted Dobson, with a 
grin; “ you’re the most unmerciful whipper-in 
Henley ever knew.” 

“ Never mind him, Sock,” admonished 
Roger; “ you keep the pack together, and hang 
their legs.” 

“ Bet your sweet life I will,” vowed Cossock, 
with vehemence. 

“ Lick you for that! ” cried Dobson, playfully 
reaching for the gloves. 

Next minute Roger was crying time, and the 
two well-matched boys were at it. 

Six fast and furious slogging rounds they 
went, with honors easy. 

“Pwhew!” panted Dobson, “ I’ve had 
enough.” 

He slipped his wrist string and hurled the 
glove at Cossock like a cannon ball. The object 
of the missile side-stepped neatly, and the flying 
glove sailed past him and caught Bradbury, 
who entered the room at that moment, fairly 
in the face. He reeled back, with a cry of 
surprise. 

“ By Jinks,” he ejaculated, “ that’s a bally 
nice reception to give a chap.” 

“ Oh, beg pardon, old fellow; unintentional, 


238 JACKSON AND HIS HENLEY FRIENDS 

I promise you; meant that for Cossock, only 
the beggar funked it,” explained Dobson, 
whereat Cossock laughed gleefully, as he called 
out: 

“ You should have funked it, too, Brad, then 
you wouldn’t have that red beak. Never 
mind, Dob, my boy; wait till I see your bare 
calves in the pack in front of me next Saturday, 
then I’ll have my revenge, my sweet youth.” 

“ I’m not going in for that run,” announced 
Bradbury. 

“ What! ” exclaimed all the lads, in surprise. 

“ No, you see this confounded Oxford coming 
right on top of it Monday I thought I’d better 
not take the time off. In fact, I rather think 
I shall go on to Oxford Saturday; I have some 
friends there, and I can take things easy there 
all day Sunday and grind up to the last minute; 
I’ll see you all there Monday, though.” 

“ How’re you feeling; pretty solid? ” in- 
quired Roger. 

“ Lots better than I did; rather think I’ll 
pull through all right. Say, Jackson, have you 
that ‘ Bradstreet ’ ? I want to see how the 
trains run; that’s what I dropped in for, only 
that Dobson sending the glove at me made me 
forget.” 

“ Here’s one,” invited Roger. “ Bring it back 
when you’ve done with it; I want it myself.” 


COMING SPORT 


239 


“ All serene,” and whistling to himself, 
Bradbury departed. 

“ I don’t believe he’ll stand a ghost of a 
chance,” prophesied Cossock. “ He came an 
awful cropper in the last test, and he hasn’t 
been doing any grinding since to speak of.” 

“ He seems to think he’ll make it,” suggested 
Dobson. 

“ Maybe he will, but I can’t figure it,” was 
Cossock’s final judgment. “ Now, then, how 
about this business on Saturday? I thought 
I’d better drop in and talk it over with you, 
Jackson. Maxwell said he’d be up later on — 
ah, here he is — hello, you beggar! ” 

Maxwell, tall, thin, and wiry as ever, entered, 
and after selecting the couch as the most com- 
fortable place, nodded to his three companions. 

“ Old Socks wouldn’t be satisfied until I 
had a confab with you, Yank, about this run. 
Now, Socks, get it out, what is it you want to 
gas about? ” 

“ Well, there’re a good many things,” com- 
plained Cossock, with an injured air. “ It’s all 
right for you two chaps; all you have to do, 
Jackson, is to lead the pack, and you, Max, to 
fool on your horn, but I tell you a whipper-in 
has no cinch. He has a crowd of beggars on 
his hands, and it’s no end of a job to keep them 
on their feet.” 


240 JACKSON AND HIS HENLEY FRIENDS 

“ What’s that about hands and feet? ” in- 
quired Dobson. 

“ Oh, don’t get funny/’ rebuked Cossock. 
“ I want to know first, Jackson, how many are 
in the pack for certs.” 

“ Sixty-four all told.” 

“ By Jinks, what a pack! ” 

“ Don’t complain; half of them will drop out 
before ten miles.” 

“ That’s what I am complaining of. That 
means work, work for me. Look at that great 
chunky Dobson sprawling about all over 
himself; you know he’ll want to quit before 
half distance, and I’ll have to work over such 
as he, keeping them on their trotters as long as 
they’re able to toddle, and small thanks I get 
for it, too.” 

“ Don’t be peevish, Sock; what else do you 
want to know? ” 

“ Well, have the hares told you what direc- 
tion? ” 

“ Yes, Tewkesbury way — that’s all.” 

“ That’s enough. That means crossing the 
river, and a lot of funky beggars to push in,” 
growled the aggrieved whipper-in. 

“ Pass on, Sock; what next? ” demanded 
Roger. 

“ Well, of course, I want to know the bugle 
signals; how can a fellow handle a great un- 


COMING SPORT 


241 


wieldy pack of thirty-two couples unless he 
knows all the calls? ” 

“ Certs, you’ll want ’em. I thought you 
had ’em; I sent ’em over to you a week ago 
by your fag. Here, I’ve got a copy somewhere 
in my desk. Can you make them out? They’re 
the same as Henley always had, I think. See, 
this is ‘ The scatter,’ here’s the ‘ Bring-down,’ 
and here’s the ‘ Come away.’ You talk it over 
with Max; he’s the old trumpet man.” 

“ It’s going to be wet, I’m afraid,” com- 
plained Dobson. 

“ I don’t care for that if only the wind 
doesn’t blow.” 

“ Yes,” chimed in Cossock, as he moved 
towards the doorway, “ the wind’s the great- 
est factor. A puffy wind scatters the scent 
and is more of a time-eater than any dodge 
they can invent. Good night, you fellows.” 

The chums dismissed the stirring thoughts 
of the coming chase, and buckled down to the 
task of rounding out the jagged edges of their 
work for the coming examination. 


CHAPTER XXIX 


THE WHITE TRAIL 

It was a regular British autumn day when 
the two hares and big pack assembled in the 
playing-field. There was little or no wind 
blowing, but already a certain crispness in the 
air told that the vanguard of the bleak season 
had arrived. 

“ Are you all ready, boys? ” demanded Mr. 
Murray. 

“ All ready, sir,” reported Cossock, as he 
looked his pack over, and Roger dipped his 
little bit of red bunting, as he echoed: “ All 
ready, sir.” 

The master looked expectantly towards Neale 
and Forrester. 

“ Ready, sir,” came from the two hares in 
a single voice. 

“Strip!” ordered Mr. Murray. 

In a second the two hares had shed their 
outer “ duds ” and swung their bags of “ scent ” 
across their shoulders. They leaned forward 
in position. 


THE WHITE TRAIL 


243 


“ Get away! ” cried the house master, glan- 
cing up from his repeater. 

Next instant the two fit-looking hares were 
trotting off at a sharp clip from the college 
grounds. They disappeared from sight be- 
hind the gymnasium, and Mr. Murray stood 
chatting with his chief. The rest of the mas- 
ters stood talking with the boys of the waiting 
pack, advising and cautioning. 

Five minutes had almost slipped away, 
when Mr. Murray suddenly glanced up and 
warned: “ Ready, hounds! ” 

Sixty-four jerseys went to the ground like 
a single garment. Roger, with his red flag 
of leadership, sprang to the front, and Cossock 
with his ever-ready whip, scurried around the 
flanks and rear of the pack. 

“ Get away! ” came the sharp command. 

There was a blare of horn, and sixty-four 
well-conditioned fellows were swinging off at 
a ground-covering trot, all well together, and 
moving with the precision of a machine. Not 
without reason was the Henley college pack 
famous throughout all the broad acres of the 
green shire of Gloucester. 

Clear and distinct before them lay the trail 
of white paper scraps, — the scent of the hares, 
— dropped but a bare five minutes previously. 

The crowd cheered as the pack doubled 


244 JACKSON AND HIS HENLEY FRIENDS 


out from behind the massive iron gates, and 
dashed away in hot pursuit. Many of them 
started with the boys, and even kept pace 
with them for the first half mile or so, but 
gradually they were tailed off. 

As the pack cleared into the Tewkesbury 
road, Roger signaled for his huntsman to 
come up clear on his right and wait for orders. 
Dobson was running third man out. 

“ Max,” confided Roger, “ we can’t carry all 
this pack very far. Tell Cossock to cut loose 
with all stragglers and distress men as they 
wither, and not to bother with the beggars 
who balk at their jumps.” 

Maxwell swung wide, slowed down for the 
whipper-in, and repeated his instructions to 
him. 

“ Of course,” muttered Cossock, “ he told 
me that before. If there’re ten men in at the 
death it’s a wonder; Neale and Forrester 
have sworn to get away from us.” 

Maxwell spurted and again took position 
on the right of his leader. 

The pack was moving in splendid style, 
covering the ground at a fine eight-mile clip, 
with the scent as plain as white paint. They 
had shaken off all well-wishing friends, and 
beyond a passing rustic or so, the way was 
clear and unimpeded. The white trail stretched 


THE WHITE TRAIL 


245 


away in an unbroken zigzag, lying undisturbed 
upon the moist road. 

Of the two hares not a sight was to be gained; 
they had probably spurted well ahead, and 
by this time taken to the country. Indeed, 
in a few minutes there was ample proof of 
this, for the trail suddenly left the highway, 
and turned at a sharp angle over a low stile, 
where it limped away as far as could be seen 
over plowed fields and meadows. 

The pack took the jump in good form, and 
Roger slowed down as they ran over the heavy 
ground. Across some meadow land, up the 
railway embankment, and into a dark patch 
of woods, they followed their prey. 

Then the first check was struck. The scent 
branched out in three directions. Evidently 
the hares had flung some loops. 

“ Scatter,” was Roger’s sharp command, 
and instantly the horn rang out the merry 
blast. 

The pack flung itself into the wood in all 
directions, while the whipper-in, panting up 
to his leader, called: “ All in hand so far.” 

The wily hares had made a cast of three 
clever loops, and it took the hounds a good five 
minutes to untangle it, then, with a “ Come 
away ” blast of the horn, they were off again 
at a hot clip to make up for lost time. 


246 JACKSON AND HIS HENLEY FRIENDS 


It was a stiff country through which they 
now ran. Roger did not let up on the pace, 
and things were taken as they came. It was 
hedge after hedge, fence after fence, and run- 
ning water flung in for good measure. The 
pack became straggled, despite Cossock’s ef- 
forts to handle them. His long whip went 
cracking here, there, everywhere, but dead 
beat, a baker’s dozen fell off and were left to 
their fate. 

Then suddenly, in a wide-running brook, the 
scent ceased. It was an old dodge, but always 
a successful time-eater. Of course, the hares 
had gone either up or down stream, dropping 
their paper in the fast running water as they 
waded along. 

“ Scatter,” again the bugle rang out, and 
up and down the rivulet scampered the hounds 
in little packs of threes and fours. Of course, 
the hares had to come out somewhere; they 
could not wade on forever in that clear stream, 
and waded they evidently had, for not a foot- 
print on either bank was to be detected. 

It was a hard check. The up-country 
hounds came back from a half-mile search 
rewarded by nothing but failure, but a moment 
later “ Yap! yap!” came from far down 
stream. Some of the pack had got on the trail 
again. 


THE WHITE TRAIL 


247 


“Full cry! ” yelled Roger to his huntsman, 
and the horn sounded the inspiring “ Come 
away! come away! come away! ” 

They swept down stream at a clinking pace, 
picking up the stray hounds as they whirled 
along the banks to a deep gulley, across which 
the scent suddenly came into view, sprinkled 
here and there upon the frail-looking trestle 
that conducted the stream over the railway 
below. The hounds who had discovered the 
trail were scampering around, uncertain what to 
do. It was a nasty climb to go over there. 
The viaduct was but eighteen inches wide, 
with not a rest on either side. The racing 
stream surged along over it, deep and swirling. 
They would never have known the hares had 
gone across except that a few tell-tale pieces of 
paper lay lodged on the narrow brink here and 
there. 

“ There it is! there it is! ” cried an excited 
hound, as he pointed out to the flagman the 
lost scent. 

“ Right / 7 snapped Roger. “ I see where they 
came out on the other side. They’ve turned 
sharp and cut off across country. Come on! ” 
Without another word he took to the water 
and commenced to wade along over the bridge. 
It was up to his middle. The boys sprang 
in behind him — all but four quitters, who 


248 JACKSON AND HIS HENLEY FRIENDS 


hung back and scampered away out of reach 
of Cossock’ s whip. 

They came out all right, but a wet, bedraggled 
set they looked, as they tore off at top pace, 
hot on the scent up a steep hill, through a 
little copse, and down the further side on to 
the hard high-road, where clear and distinct 
in front loomed the old pile of Tewkesbury 
Abbey. 

“ They’ve doubled the abbey and cut off 
across country again,” yelled an excited spec- 
tator. The road was full of the Tewkesbury 
people who had turned out to see the hounds 
come in. 

“ They’re making for Wainslode’s Hill,” 
bawled another. 

There were just twenty-one couples left, as 
the pack raced into the sleepy little market 
town, where the trail led them straight up to 
the abbey, through the “ Bloody Meadow,” 
where Queen Margaret had made her last des- 
perate stand against the Yorkist troops in the 
War of the Roses, and sharp around again 
out into the country. 

“ Tell Cossock to get ’em well in hand,” 
panted Roger to his huntsman, who slowed 
down and delivered the order to the whipper-in. 

“ Do me best,” gasped Cossock; “ the beg- 
gars are quitting right along now.” 


THE WHITE TRAIL 


249 


The country became as flat as a billiard 
table for miles, but it was stiff going for all 
that. The land was cut up into small farms, 
each fenced and hedged in neatly. 

Roger set a hot pace. It was a good ten- 
mile clip, and the leading men drew away from 
the tail of the pack at every bound. Not 
a glimpse of the hares had they caught so far, 
but the trail was as plain as daylight. 

“ Ten couples in hand! ” yelled Cossock 
at the end of a clinking three-mile run. 

“ Checked! ” shouted Roger, at the same 
instant. 

Checked, indeed! And a bad one, apparently. 
The scent stopped short in the middle of an 
open field, an apple orchard. 

“ Scatter,” again the bugle sounded, and 
scatter well the faithful remaining hounds did. 
But where, where had the trail gone to? They 
knew the scent had not given out, for old ex- 
perienced hares like Neale and Forrester were 
not the sort to time themselves wrong. 

“ What’s the trick now? ” demanded Roger 
of his huntsman. 

At the same instant the keen eyes of Max- 
well caught sight of something. “ Quick! ” 
he shouted, “ the trees! ” 

A quick glance aloft told the tale. The hares 
had taken to the trees! 


250 JACKSON AND HIS HENLEY FRIENDS 


“Up!” yelled Roger, and the next instant 
the unique spectacle was presented of hounds 
taking to the trees. 

As the young American scrambled up, the 
whole scheme lay clear before him. With a 
craftiness that would have done credit to 
King Reynard himself, the two hares had 
swung from tree to tree, dropping their paper 
on the branches as they climbed, and were 
now — goodness knew where. 

At that critical moment a shout went up 
from an old hound. “ There! there! ” he 
yelled excitedly. 

Two patches of white caught the eye at the 
far end of the field. The two hares were just 
coming to ground again. 

A yell went up from the pack. Roger 
steadied them with a “ Follow your leader.” 
Like mad, heedless of cuts and bruises, scratches 
or tears, they climbed frantically along from 
tree to tree. Away went the hares and dis- 
appeared at a swinging clip behind the next 
hedge. 

The pack was a good four minutes getting 
over the trees, then, with a “ Full Cry,” they 
were down and after them. 

Now, indeed, they were going, — and gain- 
ing, too. They caught sight of their prey 
just three fields ahead, and Roger ordered the 


THE WHITE TRAIL 


251 


“ Bring Down ” sounded. Maxwell gave it 
with what seemed to him his last remaining 
breath. He was badly winded, but old cross- 
country man that he was, he was game from 
the crown of his head to the soles of his feet. 

“ We’ll collar them,” muttered Roger en- 
couragingly. “ Come on! ” 

Now only a field separated the pursued and 
pursuers. The two hares were toiling almost 
painfully along. A dozen good men and true 
were still in hand with the pack; the rest 
straggled out in a disordered procession. 

“ They’re making for the Arrow,” gasped 
Maxwell, over Roger’s shoulder, as the broad 
river came suddenly into view. 

Next instant the hard-pressed hares, without 
wait, leaped boldly into the silver water. Roger 
saw the white spray, he heard the dull splash, 
and next moment two bobbing heads and 
straining shoulders showed where they were 
swimming silently, desperately across. They 
had cast away two empty bags as they took 
their dive, but the American knew that an- 
other canvas, crammed to the brim, lay across 
the broad shoulders of Neale. He hesitated 
not a second, but took his header like the true 
blue he was. Maxwell was in .the water after 
him a moment later, and as the two rose to 
the surface, they heard splash after splash 


252 JACKSON AND HIS HENLEY FRIENDS 

that told the rest of the pack was following. 
Once they heard Cossock’s indignant command 
of: “ Get in, you lout,” and knew he was 
urging some backward hound into the river. 
Then they struck out with all their strength 
for the opposite bank. Roger was using his 
usual overhand stroke, but Maxwell stuck 
to the slower breast. They saw the two hares 
scramble out on the opposite bank, shake them- 
selves for an instant, and then dash off like 
the wind, as if their bath had given them 
renewed strength. Roger had forged ahead 
of Maxwell, and another fellow, Blake, had 
passed the huntsman, too; but the wiry Max- 
well was third man out, and once on dry land 
he soon tore up to the leader again. 

“ How many? ” panted Roger, as he heard 
his huntsman thudding along in his rear. 

“ Seven,” gasped Maxwell. 

“ Couples? ” 

“ Singles.” 

“ Cossock? ” 

“ Out.” 

“ Come on,” urged Roger, and the three 
labored steadily, resolutely on. A fourth man 
came panting up; then a fifth, but that was 
all. On those five depended whether they 
should bring down or fail. 

They toiled up the stiff ascent of Wainslode’s 


THE WHITE TRAIL 


253 


Hill and on to the high road again, but the 
hares were a hundred yards away. Far off 
in the distance the spires of Hamenchelt ta- 
pered skyward. It was a flat mile to the college 
gates. The last heartbreaking lap had com- 
menced. Once Roger saw the two hares slow 
down to a walk, but they spurted again im- 
mediately afterwards. Then one of his com- 
panions dropped away, with a little gasp. 

“ And then there were four.” Somehow 
that foolish little rhyme about the nigger 
boys kept running through his mind. 

Half mile more! The game Maxwell reeled 
and swayed weakly. 

“ Stick it out,” urged Roger. He saw Blake 
with white, set face, toiling along painfully 
three yards behind him. The tired hound tried 
to run level with his leader. Gained a yard! 
Another; he was level. The hares were fifty 
yards ahead. The American glanced at Blake, 
and as he did so, the exhausted runner curled 
up and dropped in his tracks. 

“ And then there were three.” 

Just Roger, Maxwell, and Wade. On those 
three alone depended the result. Wade ap- 
peared to be the freshest of the three, and as 
Maxwell swayed, he steadied him with his 
arm for a moment, half supporting him. Roger 
glanced at him savagely. 


254 JACKSON AND HIS HENLEY FRIENDS 


“ Can’t you go? ” he hissed. 

With a mighty effort the huntsman pulled 
himself together and still stayed. 

Twenty yards ahead the two hares were 
struggling along. Forrester was evidently 
nearly all in, and Neale was urging him on. 
Four hundred yards to the gates. The road 
was full of people; of boys from the school; 
of carriages, motors, and wheels. They scarce 
saw them. Then a stone — a something — got 
in Maxwell’s way, and crash, down he went. 

“ And then there were two.” 

Again that silly rhyme ran through Roger’s 
brain. Would the thing come true? Would it 
end with: “ And then there were none?” 

“ Come! come! ” urged Wade, and his 
voice sounded to the toiling Roger like a 
trumpet-call to battle. 

He ran up to his last ounce. He gained ! He 
gained! They both gained! They would 
collar them. 

Roger stumbled and nearly went down over 
the last discarded bag. 

“ On, on, come on! ” urged Wade, at his 
side. 

He saw the white of Forrester’s shirt right in 
front of him. He reached for it feebly. He 
saw Wade shoot past him. He clutched at that 
white thing again. Missed it! Again! He 


THE WHITE TRAIL 


255 


— he had it, or — or Forrester must have 
stopped — or something, for the next instant 
he was on top of him and they were both 
down, but he had him! Some one was shouting: 
“ Well collared, sir, well collared! ” He heard 
another shout three yards ahead of him : 
“ Well collared! Collared, indeed, sir! ” and 
knew that Wade had brought down Neale. 
Then he felt the great bulk of Forrester slowly 
endeavoring to arise, but he sat tight on him 

— as much from weariness as anything else. 
Some one came and lifted him up. 

“ It’s all right; let him go,” urged a voice, 
but it sounded far away. 

Wearily he relinquished his hold, and For- 
rester crawled from under him. He was torn 
and bleeding a little, and tried to wink at 
Roger from out of one muddy eye. The 
American grinned an answer, and then he 
realized that the great autumn paper-chase 
was over, and that they had collared their men. 


CHAPTER XXX 


“ THE OXFORD, JUNIOR 

There was a big time at Henley that Satur- 
day evening. Despite the hard work that was 
ahead of them, the school was in a hilarious 
mood, and here and there little celebrations 
were indulged in, and the sound of song or 
jest came from the different class-rooms. 

There were two boys, however, who took 
no part in the jollifications. Both Bradbury 
and Lemming had left the school some hours 
earlier. They parted at the railway station 
only to meet again an hour later at the little 
Ashchurch junction. Ostentatiously Lemming 
had gone to visit his cousin, three or four days’ 
leave being granted him for that purpose, while 
Bradbury, at his own solicitation, had been 
permitted to go on to Oxford on Saturday, 
instead of Monday. This part of the deception 
had been easy. Henley was a college where a 
great deal was left to the honor of the boys, 
and although this confidence was sometimes 
abused, still, as a rule, it worked well. This 
is the plan generally adopted in all the British 


THE OXFORD, JUNIOR 


257 


public schools, in contradistinction to the French 
system, where the boy is always under the eye 
of his tutors. 

The two conspirators entered a compart- 
ment of the Oxford train when it steamed into 
the station, but it was not until they had the 
carriage all to themselves that they noticed 
each other openly. Then Lemming winked 
an eye expressively. 

“ Well, sport,” he congratulated, “ all well 
so far, eh? ” 

“ So far,” admitted Bradbury. “ No one 
saw us together, I’m sure.” 

“ Oh, you leave all this business to your 
uncle; heTl engineer it through all right. Now, 
then, listen, my boy. I shall leave you at 
Islip, and lie low at the “ Ship ” there; the less 
I’m seen the better, but you get into Oxford 
and show yourself all you like, — the more the 
better. Put up at the “ Clubman,” and spend 
the Sunday lolling about on the verandas. Get 
plenty of books around you, and make out 
you’re grinding hard, twig? The Henley 
fellows are coming on the eight o’clock Mon- 
day, and you can leave word — just casually, 
you know — that you’ve gone out up the river 
for a spin with a ’varsity chum of yours, and 
that you’ll go straight from the boathouse 
to the rooms, twig? ” 


258 JACKSON AND HIS HENLEY FRIENDS 

“ Y — yes/’ drawled Bradbury hesitatingly. 

“ Well/’ resumed Lemming, “ of course, you 
won’t go near the rooms, but instead, head 
straight for the “ Ship,” and take my place there 
while I’m taking yours. Two bodies cannot 
occupy the same space at the same time, you 
know. The only part you’ll have to play is 
to meet me at three-thirty sharp at that little 
tavern at the back of the High Street. I’ll 
make it a point to get out thirty minutes before 
the other duffers finish; I can do it easily; this 
exam is a cinch. Then I’ll hand you over the 
question sheets and post you as to answers, 
so you can make a decent bluff when you talk 
the thing over with the fellows afterwards at 
the hotel.” 

“ Y — yes,” again whispered Bradbury. 

“ Well, that’s all there is to it. I’ll cut after 
seeing you, and stay at the “ Ship ” till next 
morning, when we’ll repeat the programme. 
Then if the thing hangs on into three days, as 
it often does, do the same thing again. Sure, 
that’s easy enough.” 

“ I don’t see how you’re going to stop the fel- 
lows from spotting you,” complained Bradbury. 

“ Don’t worry about me; I’ll attend to my 
part all right; I’ll hold my end of the game up. 
All you have to do is to attend to yours.” 

The train sped on, and it was not until the 


THE OXFORD, JUNIOR 


259 


spires of Oxford loomed in sight that Lemming 
prepared to leave his companion. 

“ Here’s where I say ta, ta,” he announced, 
as the train slowed up. “ It’s three miles into 
Oxford; now, don’t forget instructions.” 

He swung off as the train slowed up at 
Islip, and disappeared from sight. 

Bradbury heaved a sigh. He drew a hand- 
kerchief from his pocket and mopped his brow. 
The day was quite chilly, but the boy was in 
a fever of heat. 

He spent that evening as Lemming had in- 
structed him, wandering about the rooms and 
balconies of the hotel, books in hand, making 
a pretense of studying. A few other students 
had arrived from different parts of the country, 
but none from Henley. Bradbury held himself 
aloof and had nothing to say to any one. 

Sunday the hotel commenced to fill up, and 
the old town was ablaze with the colors of a 
hundred schools from all parts of the British 
Isles. Early Monday morning Bradbury started 
for the station. There were crowds coming in, 
but not a single Henley fellow did the frightened 
eyes of the boy meet. 

It was a drear morning, with threatening 
rain as he reached Islip, and made hurriedly 
for the “ Ship.” Lemming had evidently left, 
for he saw no sign of him. 


260 JACKSON AND HIS HENLEY FRIENDS 


He seated himself at a table and called for a 
glass of beer, as he glanced over the morning 
paper. Try as he would, however, he could not 
keep his mind from that examination room at 
Oxford. He was worried and nervous. Every 
one whom he met he eyed with suspicion. 

Presently a tall, flashily dressed man seated 
himself at the table, and instantly Bradbury 
became possessed with a dread that he was 
being watched. He pretended to be interested 
in his paper, but his eyes kept wandering to 
the man opposite, and every time he looked 
up the fellow’s glance was on him. The per- 
spiration broke out on his forehead, and he 
mopped his brow. Surely that man was taking 
more than a passing interest in him. He was 
certainly watching him. What if he were some 
detective? He was on the point of getting up 
and leaving the table, when suddenly his 
worst fears were confirmed. 

He almost leaped from his chair, as the man 
opposite extended his hand and inquired in 
friendly fashion: “ How do, Mister Bradbury? 
Take a drink on me.” 

“ N — n — no, thanks,” stammered the boy, 
struggling to his feet and gazing at his com- 
panion. 

The man laughed. “ All right. Suit your- 
self,” he said; “ no offense meant.” 


THE OXFORD, JUNIOR 


261 


“I — I must be going,” hurriedly stammered 
Bradbury, glancing at his watch. 

“ No hurry, is there? You ain’t scared of 
me, are you, sonny? ” 

“ No,” muttered the boy; 11 why should I 
be scared of you? ” 

u Just wondering how I knew your name, eh? 
Kind of startled you, eh? Don’t worry, sonny; 
that’s easy. Saw your name on your rag when 
you mopped yourself just now. It’s a good 
name — Bradbury — eh? Ah, ah, that’s a 
good ’un, ain’t it? I’m a regular Sherlock 
Holmes, ain’t I? My name’s Smith — that’s 
another good name. Every one round here 
knows me, don’t they, miss? ” [This to the 
barmaid.] 

Bradbury hastily paid for his drink and hur- 
ried away, his mind all upset by the remarks 
of Mr. Smith. He made his way around to the 
front entrance, and registering under an as- 
sumed name, procured a private room, where 
he spent the rest of the day miserably skulking 
until time to catch the three o’clock train, when 
he hurried to the station, scarcely daring to 
look to right or left. 

He arrived at Oxford in time to keep his 
engagement with Lemming at the small tavern 
back on the High Street. 

“ Everything’s all right,” assured Lemming, 


262 JACKSON AND HIS HENLEY FRIENDS 


as they met. “ I got there rather late, and 
managed to get shoved in with a lot of heathen- 
talking Scots. The exam was easy as smoking 
a cig, and I’ll bet I ran into the ninety-five 
division. By Jinks, old sport, the Henley 
people will be surprised to see how smart you 
are. You’ll have the laugh on them all right. 
Here are the questions and some of the an- 
swers; look ’em over. Now get out and meet 
the chaps. You were in room number nine- 
teen, twig? ” 

Bradbury managed to mingle with the throng 
that was streaming from the ivy-clad towers 
of Christ Church College, and it was not long 
before some Henley students espied him. 

“ Hello, there, Brad!” cried Roger, thump- 
ing him in the ribs. “ I haven’t seen you since 
last Saturday.” 

The boys at once dived into the absorbing 
subject of the examination and how they had 
come out. 

“ I made out much better than I expected 
to,” Bradbury told them, in reply to their 
eager questions. “ In fact,” he continued, 
“ I was stumped only once.” 

“ Which was it? ” demanded the lads. , 

“ In geog, paper three, question nine: 
‘ Where is Quito? ’ ” 

“ Didn’t you know? ” demanded Roger. 


“ THE OXFORD, JUNIOR 


263 


“ I was on to that all right. It’s the capital of 
Ecuador, you old duffer. Did you get it, 
Dob? ” 

“ Yes, I collared that all right, but three 
others bowled me. One in history — some- 
thing about William Penn — ” 

“ Oh, oh,” roared Roger, stopping and punch- 
ing his chum. “ Might have known a Britisher 
wouldn’t be able to answer anything correctly 
about U. S. Why, any third grade boy in 
America could have taken that one all right.” 

“ I never heard much about him,” grumbled 
Dobson. “ Did you take it all right, Brad? ” 

“ Bet your life,” boasted Bradbury, ran- 
sacking his brains to think if Lemming had 
told him anything about William Penn. 

“ What did you put? ” demanded the dis- 
gruntled Dobson. 

“ I remember,” explained Bradbury, getting 
confused as the two Henleyites waited for him. 
“ He issued the proclamation against slavery 
and — ” 

“ Pwhew! ” whistled Roger, “ you went up 
in the air that time, Brad.* Why, William 
Penn was one of the early birds; you’ve got 
him mixed with Lincoln.” 

“ Well,” soberly related Dobson, “ I figured 
that Penn ought to have something to do 
with Pennsylvania, so I said that William 


264 JACKSON AND HIS HENLEY FRIENDS 

Penn was an American millionaire who owned 
most of the coal mines in that state.” 

“ Hurrah!” shouted Roger. “ Better and 
better. It takes an Englishman to tell us 
anything about America.” 

“ Well, confound it all,” complained Dobson, 
“ they teach a fellow so little about it; we 
had just one week for history and geography 
of the States. A fellow can’t learn all about 
it in that time, you know.” 

“ Scarcely,” agreed Roger. 

So the conversation continued on the ab- 
sorbing subject until the hotel was reached, 
where, pleading fatigue, Bradbury went to his 
room. 

The second day, like the first, he succeeded 
in keeping out of the way of his comrades, 
when, after a hasty conference with Lemming, 
he again mingled with them as they came out 
of college. The third day was only a three- 
hour session, and the rest of the day was spent 
in seeing the sights of the historic old place, 
after which an early return was made to 
Hamenchelt and Henley. 


CHAPTER XXXI 


THE RESULTS 

Hard work again followed the Oxford exam- 
ination, hard work in which the whole school 
participated, for at Christmas, now looming 
into view, came the general shake-up, and 
what shrimp did not hope to grow into a min- 
now, or what salmon did not believe he would 
discover himself a whale? 

The candidates who had taken the Oxford, 
Junior lived in a perpetual state of expectancy, 
for any morning’s mail might bring them fame 
or disappointment. 

It came at last. The boys felt it when they 
saw old Doctor Proctor stalk into chapel that 
Friday morning with an important-looking 
official envelope in his hand. They could 
barely contain themselves while prayers were 
being recited, and then at last came the shock. 

“ Ahem — ahem,” coughed the doctor, as 
was his manner before speech, “ ahem — I 
have in my hand the pass list of the Oxford, 
Junior examination held last October fourteenth, 
fifteenth and sixteenth.” 


266 JACKSON AND HIS HENLEY FRIENDS 

A suppressed flutter of excitement ran around 
the chapel. 

“ Henley,” continued the doctor, “ has been 
singularly successful this year; not a single 
failure of any of her candidates having to be 
recorded, — ahem.” 

Had it been “ form ” there would have been 
a wild outburst of cheering at this point, but 
the place forbade it. 

“ The list,” resumed the doctor, “ and the 
averages obtained by our boys you will find 
posted in the corridor as you leave this chapel, 
and I can only say that I heartily congratulate 
you, as well as your form tutors, on your suc- 
cess. You are dismissed.” 

There was a rush as soon as the chapel doors 
were passed for the notice boards, and the 
names and figures were shouted back by the 
foremost lads. 

“ Murray’s win in a canter,” shouted an 
enthusiastic Murray boy. 

“ Murray’s have first three men in! ” yelled 
another. 

“ Jackson first, Bradbury second, Dobson 
third, hip — hip — hip — Murray’s van! ” 

“ Oh, Cossock just sneaks in, last but two! 
Bravo, Sock! ” 

“ Steady old plugger! ” 

“ ’Rah for Sock!” 


THE RESULTS 


267 


The news and congratulations, cries and yells 
were sounding all through the halls, while the 
statisticians went to work to discover just how 
the four rival houses stood. 

It was Murray’s easily first, with Fairbanks’ 
and Dole’s almost tied for second place, and 
Grafton’s nowhere, with only four men in, 
and those low down. 

Every one was congratulating the successful 
boys, and one of the first to shake Bradbury’s 
hand was Roger. 

“ Well done, old boy! ” he cried. “ You did 
bully. I’ll swear I never thought it was in you, 
and that’s straight. You surprised us all. 
Shake again.” 

There was a hearty handshake, and then 
Dobson and Cossock came pushing their way 
up, and it was all done over again. 

“ Say, Sock, old chap,” blurted out Dobson, 
“ I never got such a shock in my life as when 
they shouted out your name. I didn’t think 
you had a ghost of a chance.” 

“ Thanks, you candid old beggar,” replied 
Cossock, “ I’ll admit I was rather staggered 
myself.” 

“ You did it by solid, steady plugging, Sock, 
and you deserve it more than any other fellow 
who passed,” declared Roger. 

Cossock, rather embarrassed by this over- 


268 JACKSON AND HIS HENLEY FRIENDS 


flow of praise, turned the subject by inquir- 
ing: 

“Ah, but how about Brad, here; all the 
chaps said he wouldn’t get through, and look, 
the beggar has run into second place on the 
school list! Shake, Brad, you old ’possum; 
I believe you were lying low all the time just 
to give us a grand surprise. Own up now.” 

Bradbury, too, looked embarrassed. He 
muttered something about: “ Not at all,” and 
then edged away, while other fellows took his 
place, and congratulations were recommenced. 

It was difficult for the boys to buckle down 
to hard work, and yet it had to be done; so 
with a sigh and an effort, Henley turned again 
to its books and papers. But that night in the 
privacy of their dens the seniors again went 
over the battle of the Oxford, Junior. 

“ The real surprise to me,” bluntly admitted 
Dobson once more, “was that chap Brad; 
I can’t see how he managed to pull in the way 
he did, can you, Yank? ” 

“ He rather astonished me,” acknowledged 
Roger, “ but I suppose he must have crammed 
a lot the last few days. You know he had 
Lemming to coach him, and that fellow’s a smart 
one all right; he went through under wraps 
last term. I heard Mr. Murray tell Mr. Kil- 
gordon one day last week that there wasn’t a 


THE RESULTS 


269 


smarter chap at Henley than Lemming, only 
he was no worker.” 

“ Well, by Jinks, I call him a rattling fine 
coach to keep Brad on his feet and push him 
in second in the whole school; and, by thun- 
der, old chap, fancy your crowding into first 
place; things have certainly come Murray’s 
way this time.” 

“ Rather. With a chap named Dobson 
running third, too,” added Roger. 

“ Swear, you could have knocked me down 
with a feather when they yelled that out,” 
honestly admitted Dobson. 

There was an interruption as young Berry 
and Tucker burst into the room and insisted 
on preparing some kind of a spread in honor 
of the occasion. 

A great spread they partook of, too. There 
was tea, of course, for what British function 
would be complete without that beverage? 
There were hot buttered pikelets and deviled 
herrings, strawberry jam, celery and cake, 
potted tongue and hard-boiled eggs all served 
together at table in delightful confusion. 

Tucker and Berry took the courses valiantly 
without a murmur, missing nothing, for the 
banquet that the small British schoolboy’s 
stomach will not take care of does not exist. 

It came to a conclusion at last, though, as 


270 JACKSON AND HIS HENLEY FRIENDS 


even the best of things must, and nothing 
remained but the remnants. 

Then, with a sigh, the two fags arose and 
proceeded to wash up dishes. 


CHAPTER XXXII 


THE WAY OF THE TRANSGRESSOR 

“ Well,” demanded Lemming, as he and 
Bradbury talked of the results. “ I put you 
next to it, eh? ” 

Bradbury nodded. 

“ Too close,” he complained. “ Every fellow 
is wondering how in the dickens I made such 
a showing, and Murray only this morning 
said he didn’t see how I managed to forget 
so much since the examination. He asked some 
fool question or other about James the First, 
and I tripped up on it.” 

“ Don’t worry about Murray or any one 
else. The Oxford was all you wanted to pass. 
Now you’ve done it, and all Henley can’t undo 
it. Say, can you let me have that other fifty 
quid soon? ” 

“ Just as soon as the governor ponies up. 
I wrote him I was stumped, and I’m sure he’ll 
come down with the goods within a week.” 

“ All right; I suppose I can hang off for that 
time.” 


272 JACKSON AND HIS HENLEY FRIENDS 


The money arrived on time, and Lemming 
was paid off, but the superabundance of cash 
made him reckless, and he plunged, on the 
advice of Mr. Dutton, on a “ sure thing ” 
in the Liverpool Handicap. The “ sure thing ” 
like so many other certainties, failed to mate- 
rialize, and Lemming found himself ten days 
afterwards as poor as he was before the arrival 
of Bradbury’s cash. Such is usually the fate 
of ill-gotten wealth. 

Mr. Dutton, however, gallantly came to the 
rescue. He was considerate enough to show 
Lemming how, not only could he make good 
his loss, but also come out a long way ahead, 
if he would only place fifty on “ True Blue 
II ” for the Kempton Park sweeps. This 
absolutely, without doubt, was a sure thing, he 
affirmed. He had, himself, been badly bitten 
over that Liverpool, but this time his informa- 
tion was without doubt correct. 

Bradbury found Lemming waiting for him 
that evening in his study. 

“ Hello, sport,” he greeted, “ where have 
you been? I’ve been waiting for you for an 
hour or more.” 

Somehow since that examination Lemming 
had assumed a sort of domineering air, and 
whereas Bradbury had been endeavoring as 
much as possible to withdraw from the ill- 


THE WAY OF THE TRANSGRESSOR 273 


formed friendship, Lemming seemed deter- 
mined to keep it up. 

“ I’ve been over with Jackson in the gym,” 
replied Bradbury. 

“ Pshaw, what do you want to run with that 
straitlaced chap for? ” demanded Lemming. 

“ Jackson’s not straitlaced particularly, that 
I know of.” 

“ Yes, he is; but never mind; what I dropped 
in to see you about was to ask how you stood 
for cash; got any? ” 

“ Precious little; that last fifty I paid you 
about cleaned me out.” 

“ Well, say, I want to get some more from 
somewhere.” 

“ Why, what’ve you done with all that? ” 

“ All that! Great Scott, you speak as if it 
was a fortune. I dropped the whole bunch 
over that plug ‘ True Blue ’ at Kempton.” 

“ Well, you’re a fool to bet, that’s all I have 
to say, and I can’t lend you any; I’m almost 
broke myself; haven’t got a fiver to my name.” 

“ Oh, come off, old man; you can afford to 
let me have some; you can tap your governor 
again. What’s the use of having a rich dad 
if you can’t help your friends now and again? 
Let me have a fiver; there’s a good chap.” 

“ I can’t, Lemming; that would leave me 
stone broke.” 


274 JACKSON AND HIS HENLEY FRIENDS 


“ Well, then, let me have four quid. I’ll 
let you have it back soon, and you know, Brad, 
I did that Oxford business awfully cheap for 
you; it won’t hurt you to help me out now.” 

Bradbury’s face flushed. He hesitated a mo- 
ment, then his hand went down into his trousers 
pocket, and he produced a handful of coins. 
He counted the money out on the table, Lem- 
ming following the operation with greedy eyes. 

“ Three pounds, nineteen and six,” announced 
Bradbury, glancing up. “ Here’s three quid, 
Lemming, and that will leave me with less 
than a sov. to my name.” 

Lemming pocketed the gold coins fliply, 
muttering: “ All serene, sport; I wouldn’t bone 
you, but I need the money so thundering badly, 
and if a chap can’t get it from his chum, who 
can he get it from, eh? ” 

Bradbury winced. That claim of friendship 
jarred him now. Since the excitement of the 
examination had passed, he had had leisure 
to realize what his action had really been, and 
was by this time thoroughly disgusted with 
himself. It was his firm intention to break 
with Lemming, but that parasite apparently 
was determined he should not. The son of a not 
too wealthy father, his natural extravagance 
and unhealthy appetite for dissipation had 
made it necessary for him through all his 


THE WAY OF THE TRANSGRESSOR 275 


Henley days to prey upon some companion 
better supplied with cash than himself; and 
in his roommate, Bradbury, he had found 
just such a one as he wished. It was therefore 
not his intention to lose him now. 

Poor Bradbury was in reality a very decent 
fellow, but lacking in that stiffening quality 
that makes the difference between strong and 
weak men and boys. He had wished so much 
to pass the Oxford examination, realized that 
he could not, and then Lemming’s offer had 
seemed an easy way out of the difficulty, — 
and he had succumbed. Now a small voice, 
but a most persistent one, was continually 
nagging him. “ You’re a pretty fellow,” the 
silent voice would taunt, as the lad flung him- 
self on his cot at night. “ Why, you’re nothing 
but a fraud; you’re sailing under false colors; 
you’re a cheat.” And in his slumbers the 
accuser still followed him tantalizing him with 
maddening dreams, in which he thought he had 
really taken the test, had really passed, and 
then in fancy he would walk to his class-room, 
with squared shoulders and fearless eyes and 
honest heart, and meet there his tutor’s gaze 
without shame. Then he would awake to 
find the bright sunshine streaming in upon 
him, and hear the shouts and noise from his 
happy schoolmates below in the playing field, 


276 JACKSON AND HIS HENLEY FRIENDS 


and all the hideous deception would come back 
to him with an overpowering rush, and burying 
his face in his pillow, he would sob with the 
shame and bitterness of it all. Too late he 
began to know the truth of the lines: 

“ Remorse — she ne’er forsakes us — 

A bloodhound staunch — she tracks our rapid step.” 

But was it too late? 

Under the continual strain and the attacks 
of his own accusing conscience, his health began 
to give way, and he commenced to look haggard 
and woebegone. He forsook nearly all outdoor 
exercise, and spent most of his spare time moon- 
ing about brooding over his deceit. In one 
thing, however, he showed some strength. He 
broke with Lemming. He could stand the 
boy’s evil, cunning face no longer, and after 
considerable difficulty, succeeded in finding 
another study, much to Lemming’s chagrin. 

Roger and Dobson could not help but notice 
poor Bradbury’s haggard appearance. 

“ You’re grinding too hard, old man, you 
need a rest; it’s lucky the holidays are coming; 
they’ll put you all right,” Roger cheered him. 

“ I’d forgive you, Brad, old man, if you 
hadn’t nosed me out of second place,” teased 
Dobson, as he departed. “ You know, I’m 


THE WAY OF THE TRANSGRESSOR 277 


still sweating; I haven’t got into the sixth 
yet/’ he called back, as the door banged after 
him. 

“ He’s a happy beggar,” sighed Bradbury, 
glancing after him. 

“ No reason why you shouldn’t be, too,” 
commented Roger. “ I’m sure you’ve done 
well enough this half, and I guess you’re safe 
for the sixth, old man. Oh, we’ll all be whales 
next term.” 

“ I’ll bet I won’t be,” groaned Bradbury. 
“ I’ll fall down in the test; see if I don’t.” 

“ Not likely — not with the showing you 
made at Oxford.” 

“ Oh, thunder! ” exploded Bradbury, in a 
burst of confidence. “ You fellows are all 
right; you’re straight; you won on your 
merits, but I — I — I — ” 

He stopped, frightened at what he had said 
— afraid to go on. 

Roger got up from his chair. He leaned 
over and gave the boy a friendly thump. 

“ Old man,” he comforted, “ you’re not 
quite yourself; you’re all upset. You’ve been 
working too hard, I tell you; take a rest for a 
few days.” 

a Oh, it’s not that! It’s not that!” cried 
Bradbury hoarsely. “ You don’t know. I 
can’t — I can’t tell you — ” 


278 JACKSON AND HIS HENLEY FRIENDS 


“ Yes, you can if you wish to,” Roger said. 
“ I don’t want you to tell me anything you 
don’t want to, but if there’s anything I can 
help you in, you know I’d do it, Brad. You’re 
not my chum like Dob, but we’ve always been 
in the same crowd together since we were sprats 
and we’ve been in lots of scrapes together. If 
there’s anything in which I can help you, I will, 
and so will Dob.” 

These comrade-like words broke down Brad- 
bury’s last reserve, and there and then he con- 
fessed in the sympathetic ear of the American 
the whole wretched business. 

When he had finished, Roger said gravely: 
“ It’s a bad affair, Brad.” 

“ It’s awful,” groaned Bradbury. “ It’s 
spoiled my prospects here and broke me all up. 
I have no faith in myself. If you had told me 
six months ago, Jackson, that I should have 
done such a thing, I wouldn’t have believed it 
possible. I must have been out of my head. 
I wish — oh, I wish I could undo it.” 

“ You can’t do that, old man,” said Roger 
seriously, “ but it’s no use crying over spilt 
milk. You’ve made the mistake; now you must 
make all the amends you can.” 

“ I can’t do a thing,” moaned Bradbury. “ I 
must get away from Henley; I can’t stand it 
here.” 


THE WAY OF THE TRANSGRESSOR 279 


“ Oh, no,” corrected Roger, “ you mustn’t 
do that. It’s no use running away; you must 
stand up to it. I — I — ” and then, for the 
first time Roger hesitated. He was wishing his 
father had been there to advise him then. “ I 
think, old man,” he resumed, “ that the best 
thing you can do is to take this affair to Mr. 
Murray. He’s a stunner all right; I’ve found 
that out since I’ve been at Henley.” 

“ Oh, no, no! ” cried Bradbury fearfully. 
“ I dare not do that. I shall go away. I have 
no more right at Henley. I’m a cad.” 

Then very seriously and earnestly Roger 
talked to the nearly distracted boy, and at the 
end of half an hour’s argument he had persuaded 
Bradbury that the best course would be to 
present the matter to their house master, Mr. 
Murray. 


CHAPTER XXXIII 


DOWN, BUT NOT OUT 

Mr. Murray was in his study. They saw 
that from the light that streamed from his 
window, as they walked the quadrangle, Brad- 
bury screwing up his courage to face the 
music. 

“ Now, come along, old man,” urged the 
American. “ When you’re going to take a 
header into cold water, the best way is to get 
right in.” 

“ You go ahead; I’ll follow you in a minute,” 
still hesitated Bradbury. 

“ Not a bit of it; you come with me,” in- 
sisted Roger, and together the two lads ascended 
the stairs and rapped at the study door. 

“ Come in,” invited the genial master’s 
voice, and the lads entered. 

“ Good evening — why, what’s the matter, 
Bradbury; you look unwell.” 

“ Bradbury’s in some trouble, sir, and he 
wants to tell you about it,” explained Roger. 
“ Go ahead, Brad.” 


DOWN, BUT NOT OUT 


281 


The nearly distracted lad sank unbidden 
into a chair and blurted out: “ I’ve been an 
awful cad, sir! ” 

“ Oh, I trust not,” said the master. “ You 
have done so brilliantly this term, Bradbury; 
it would be a thousand pities to mar your work 
by an error.” 

“ It’s worse than an error, sir — I’ve been a 
cad — a thief — a — ” 

“ Now, stop, stop,” commanded Mr. Murray. 
“ You are excited; you are not quite yourself 
to-night, Bradbury; I see that. Compose 
yourself, and tell me quietly.” 

Then the boy, in broken sentences, told the 
story of his temptation and fall. 

The Rev. Milton Murray sat with clasped 
hands, as the lad told of his wrong-doing, 
and sat in that same position several min- 
utes after he had concluded. Then he asked 
quietly: 

“ Bradbury, are you sure you have repented 
of your sin? That is really the first thing to do. 
I never preach to my boys, as you are aware, 
but I believe that God requires us all to repent 
when we have committed a fault before he will 
help us. I want to start at the right place, my 
boy. I want to tackle this bad business in a 
right spirit.” 

Mr. Murray was speaking more like a boy to 


282 JACKSON AND HIS HENLEY FRIENDS 


his friend than a master to his pupil. His 
whole manner breathed comradeship. 

The tears sprang to Bradbury's eyes. 

“ God knows I have repented/' he muttered. 
“ I would do anything — anything in the world, 
sir, to undo this business. It isn't — it isn’t 
so much that I feel afraid of the results, but 
that I am — am such a cad,” he stumbled on 
lamely. 

“ That's right,” cried the tutor, as he ex- 
tended his hand and grasped Bradbury’s. 
“ Now we can get at it in the right spirit. Sit 
down, Jackson, and we will talk this affair 
over as between three friends.” 

“ But how — what can I do, sir? ” mumbled 
Bradbury. 

“ Do! Why, start all over again. That's the 
only thing.” 

“ I'm afraid I don't understand, sir.” 

“ You must take this examination over 
again.” 

“ What! ” cried Bradbury, almost leaping 
from his chair. 

“ That is the only thing for you to do. 
You can pass if you study hard for a month, 
and there is another test before Christmas. 
You must cut loose from this fellow, Lemming, 
Bradbury.” 

“ I have already, sir,” cried the boy, leaping 


DOWN, BUT NOT OUT 


283 


to his feet, a new light and ambition shining in 
his eyes. “ I will take that exam again, sir, 
and I will pass. Here’s my hand on it,” and 
ignoring all precedent, he shook hands with the 
Henley House master unbidden, then, turning 
about, did the same to Roger. 

That night conference lasted over an hour, 
while Mr. Murray carefully went over point 
after point that was likely to present any 
difficulty. 

“ I must, of course,” he said, “ inform the 
doctor.” 

Bradbury moistened his lips. 

“ But I think,” added the master, “ that I 
can promise he will fall in with my views on 
this subject. Now go, boys. You must come 
here every evening at eight, Bradbury, and I 
will give you an hour’s time, coaching you 
along especially.” 

Long after the lads had gone the Rev. 
Milton Murray sat pondering, and long after 
he had retired he still lay awake thinking. 

“ I am doing right. I am doing right.' I am 
sure of it,” he kept repeating to himself as he 
dozed off. 

Next morning before school prayers he visited 
Doctor Proctor, and the two remained in confer- 
ence for over half an hour. When he came 
away his face was wreathed in smiles, and the 


284 JACKSON AND HIS HENLEY FRIENDS 


old doctor was left sitting in his study, tugging 
in deep thought at his clean-shaven chin, as he 
muttered to himself the same words used by his 
divisional master the previous night: “ I am 
doing right. I am doing right. I feel sure of 
it.” 

Roger mentioned not one word of the confes- 
sion to his chum Dobson. No one in that 
college of over a thousand scholars knew any- 
thing about the unfortunate affair except the 
doctor, Mr. Murray, Roger, and the two guilty 
boys. 

Bradbury at once put his shoulder to the 
wheel, going every evening to Mr. Murray’s 
study, and there the old Cambridge B. A. 
exerted himself to tutor as he never had before. 
He was determined that Bradbury should pass 
that next examination. He had studied the 
singular case from every standpoint, moral as 
well as legal. 

“ You see, Bradbury,” he instructed one 
night, when going over the case again, “ I can- 
not defend your behavior from the moral side 
at all, but in point of law it is this boy, Lemming, 
who has committed the crime, — for a crime it 
is. You simply entered for the examination, 
and then failed to present yourself, as did some 
dozen other candidates, but Lemming was 
guilty of impersonating you at Oxford. He 


DOWN, BUT NOT OUT 


285 


presented himself there and answered to your 
name. To impersonate another is a crime, 
punishable in law by a fine or imprisonment, or 
both. Recollect, I am not condoning your 
offense in the slightest way, but simply stating 
Lemming’s position in the matter. Now, what 
you must do is to pass. You must pass! You 
understand. I know you have it in you, and 
I am going to give up sufficient of my time to 
insure the result. Your honor — the honor of 
the old school demands that.” 


CHAPTER XXXIV 


LEMMING SNARLS BACK 

Bradbury had now mated it up with Cos- 
sock, in whose room he applied himself with an 
energy that brooked no opposition to the task 
of preparing for the coming examination. Cos- 
sock, slow and plodding as ever, could not but 
marvel at the industry with which his new 
roommate applied himself. 

“ If ever a fellow deserved to be a whale, 
you do, Brad,” he growled, as he watched the 
ever-working Bradbury. Little did he know 
the stakes for which the lad was working. 

The days sped by with lightning-like rapidity, 
and on November 19th Bradbury again found 
himself in the historic old city of Oxford. This 
time there was no need to skulk along and fear 
that every corner might hide a familiar face 
or form. He walked like a man, with erect 
carriage and determined face into the gloomy 
class-room of Christ Church college, and when 
ten days later Mr. Murray called him into his 
study and showed him his name on the Novem- 
ber Oxford pass list, with the figures “ 97.11 ” 


LEMMING SNARLS BACK 


287 


opposite it, the lad, with happy heart and brim- 
ming eyes, could only shake his tutor’s hand 
and mumble: 

“ Thank you, sir — it’s all — all through you.” 

“ No,” replied Mr. Murray, “ there is some 
one else to whom you owe something, and that 
is Jackson. He saw the right thing, and did it 
in a straightforward manner. I consider his 
conduct in this affair has been most praise- 
worthy and correct.” 

“ I know. He’s a trump, sir,” agreed Brad- 
bury. 

It seemed now that all would go well with 
Bradbury, but he soon discovered he had not 
yet finished with Lemming. That wastrel was 
leaving Henley at the end of the term, and had 
fast been going from bad to worse. 

He appeared at Bradbury’s den one afternoon 
just as the latter was leaving in company with 
Roger. He was in a nasty humor, and soon 
disclosed the fact that he had come for the 
express purpose of annoying his former room- 
mate. 

“ Hold hard there, Bradbury,” he called out, 
“ I want a word or so with you. You needn’t 
wait, Jackson.” 

“ Thanks,” dryly responded the American. 
“ I rather fancy this is Bradbury’s den, not 
yours. Shall I stay, or go, Brad? ” 


288 JACKSON AND HIS HENLEY FRIENDS 

“ Stay,” said Bradbury. “ Sit down, Yank.” 

“ Oh, well,” snarled Lemming, “ it doesn’t 
matter a hang. Very likely you know all about 
it, anyway. He’s so jolly thick with you, I 
shouldn’t be surprised. But come to think 
about it, I guess he would scarcely tell you, so 
suppose I do. Shall I, Bradbury? ” 

“ Just as you please,” replied Bradbury. 

“ Oh, you’re a beaut, aren’t you. Say, Jack- 
son, do you know what this nice friend of yours 
did awhile back? ” 

“ Lemming,” commanded Roger, coolly, “ If 
you have anything to say, say it, and get out. 
Bradbury and I want to go for a spin.” 

“ Oh, you’re a fine couple — both of you! ” 
shouted Lemming, working himself into a 
fury. 

“ You were thundering glad to use me, Brad- 
bury, when I was of use to you, and now you 
think you can cut me. Not by a long shot, my 
beauty. I’ll show you a thing or so yet. I’ll 
fix you, see if I don’t.” 

Bradbury shot an inquiring glance at Roger, 
who pointed towards the door. 

“ Get out, Lemming,” he ordered, “ or I’ll 
throw you.” 

“ Oh, will you? ” shouted Lemming, losing 
all control of himself. “ If you try any of that 
high-handed business with me, you’ll discover 


LEMMING SNARLS BACK 


289 


you’ve got your dear friend, here, into a pot of 
trouble, so look out, you confounded Yankee! ” 
“ You’ll have to explain yourself,” replied 
Roger, taking no notice of the epithet. “ Brad- 
bury has nothing to fear from you. He — ” 

“ Oh, hasn’t he? That’s all you know about 
it. He’s a fraud, that’s what he is; and directly 
you try any tricks with me, I’ll put him where 
he belongs.” 

“ You had better go before you make a 
greater ass of yourself than you have already. 
Your threats convey nothing to me.” 

“ That’s because you’re not wise to it, but 
I’ll soon make you. I thought Bradbury might 
have told you now you’re so thick, but as he 
hasn’t, I will. Bradbury never passed the Ox- 
ford, so there! ” 

“ I say he did.” 

“ And I tell you he didn’t, you fool.” 

“ Well, it’s here a matter of my word against 
yours, then; but the records will tell.” 

“ Oh, look here, he never went near the 
rooms. I passed for him, so there you have it. 
Now, what have you to say? ” 

“ Simply this: that if, as you say, you im- 
personated Bradbury at Oxford, you laid your- 
self open to a charge of a rather serious crime. 
To impersonate another at a national examina- 
tion is a crime against the law.” 


290 JACKSON AND HIS HENLEY FRIENDS 


For a moment Lemming was plainly stag- 
gered, but he quickly recovered himself. 

“ What do I care for that? ” he retorted. 
“ You dare not do anything. I can peach on 
you, but you can’t do it to me, or Bradbury 
comes down with me, so there, my smart 
Yankee friend.” 

“ Now look here, Lemming,” cautioned 
Roger, suddenly becoming very much in earnest, 
“ you’ve been very free with your advice to 
‘ make me wise ’ and all that sort of tommyrot; 
suppose I do a little enlightening myself. Lis- 
ten, you cad! It is true you impersonated Brad, 
here, in the examination held at Oxford in 
September last, and it is true he permitted you 
to — a serious error, for which he has since been 
sorry, and — ” 

“ Rot! ” interrupted Lemming savagely. 

“ But,” resumed Roger, not heeding the out- 
burst, “ it is also true that Bradbury took an- 
other examination this November, and, more- 
over, passed with a slightly higher average than 
you did for him. His examination in November 
has nothing to do — nothing whatever — with 
that one in which a fellow named Lemming imper- 
sonated him, and the sooner that fellow named 
Lemming grasps that fact, the better it will be 
for him. That’s all I have to say to you, you cad. 
Now, get out! I’ll give you twenty seconds! ” 


LEMMING SNARLS BACK 


291 


“ Oh, you think you’re smart, don’t you? ” 
snarled Lemming, “ but — ” 

“ Five seconds gone,” warned Roger, holding 
his watch in his hand. 

“ But I’ll get even with you both, see if I 
don’t,” yelled Lemming. 

“ Only ten seconds longer,” mildly observed 
Roger. 

Lemming glanced hastily at the two boys. 
Roger had placed his watch on the table, and 
was deliberately removing his coat. 

“ Five seconds more,” he drawled. “ One, 
two, three, four — coming! ” 

But Lemming had gone. 

“ I rather think we’ve seen the last of him, 
Brad, old man,” prophesied Roger. 

And they had. 


CHAPTER XXXV 


henley’s gift 

The Christmas break-up was, as usual, a 
red-letter day for Henley. 

A larger crowd than ever of the boys’ people 
was down, and the old town was gay with 
bunting and other signs of welcome. The 
borough motto, “ Salubritas et Eruditio,” was 
everywhere in evidence, while the gay costumes 
of the ladies, the black Eton jackets and broad, 
spotless collars of the boys and the somber 
gowns of the tutors were mingled in picturesque 
confusion all about the buildings and grounds of 
the great college. 

Roger’s father was still in Upper India, and 
would not return until some time in the next 
year, but Dobson’s father, the genial old Sir 
Henry, accompanied by his son, Captain Archi- 
bald, had “ shown up,” as Dobson put it; and, 
of course, it was a foregone conclusion that 
Roger would spend the Christmas at Hatherly 
Court, where Sir Henry kept the festive season 
in true old English manner. 

Mrs. Maxwell and her daughters were there, 


HENLEY'S GIFT 


293 


and so were Mrs. Berry, and Tucker’s people, 
and the stately old judge, Cossock’s father, and 
Bradbury’s millionaire “ governor,” fresh from 
his commercial conquests in the East. 

“ My boy,” cried Sir Henry, as he greeted 
Roger, “ how you are shooting up. Why, why, 
you must be nearly as tall as your father. 
Tommy, he’s four inches taller than you.” 

“ Ah, but not so broad,” laughed Dobson. 
“ We’re going to put a couple of ten-pound 
dumbbells on his head if he doesn’t stop grow- 
ing.” 

“ Well, Henley appears to agree with you 
both, for I never saw either of you looking 
fitter,” mused the general. 

“ I am glad to hear you say so, Sir Henry,” 
said Doctor Proctor, who was mingling with 
every one everywhere that day. “ We are to 
be congratulated, I’m sure; we are very for- 
tunate ; the health of the boys was never better 
than during the last term. We shall see you 
in ‘ The Big ’ at three, I suppose; you must 
not miss our gold medalist’s speech. Dauncy 
will soon be 1 an old boy ’ of whom Henley will 
be proud, you mark my prophecy, Sir Henry. 
Ah, good morning, judge.” This to Cossock’s 
dignified father. “ So glad your son has been 
able to pass his test into the sixth form. He is 
slow — very slow, but his form master informs 


294 JACKSON AND HIS HENLEY FRIENDS 

me that he possesses that most desirable of 
traits which is perhaps best expressed by the 
word ‘ Sticktoitiveness.’ He was speaking to 
me of him only the other day, and this is what 
he said : ‘ I have seen him beaten a dozen times 
over the same problem, but I have yet to see 
him finally routed.’ I like that report, Judge, 
I like it very much; it rings true to me. ,> 

The judge beamed over with pleasure. 

“ I like it, too, sir,” he said. “ Andrew 
would not be a Cossock if he were not slow; 
we are all built on those lines, I believe.” 

Doctor Proctor passed on through the 
groups of parents and friends with a bow and 
courteous word everywhere. 

Then came a grand rush of small boys, 
shrimps, minnows and sprats, eager with the 
tidings that the spread was open, and deter- 
mined to lose no time in getting to the banquet. 

Young Berry and Tucker were among them, 
and shouted boisterous greetings to Dobson and 
Roger and their people, urging them to “ come 
on and get busy.” 

And then came a stalwart, rolling figure that 
breathed of the strong Channel winds and 
choppy seas, the boys’ old friend, Captain 
Josiah Dobbs. He hailed his favorites from 
afar: 

“ What ho, me mates! In port again. Pay 


HENLEY’S GIFT 


295 


off day and all buntin’ fiyin’. How be ye, 
young gents? How be ye? And ye, too, 
Mister General; ’tis a mighty fine son as yer 
have. Good luck to yer, sir, good luck.” 

“ I was just wondering if you would show up,” 
said Roger. 

“ Show up,” echoed the old salt. “ Bet your 
life I’d show up if me brig was within a hundred 
miles o’ ye. When’s the say goin’ ter be? ” 

“ 1 The say,’ ” puzzled Dobson. 

“ Yes, ain’t there goin’ ter be a grand say 
by one o’ the young gents? I heard as there 
was.” 

“ Oh, he means Dauncy’s speech,” explained 
Roger. 

“ That’s it — essay, I thinks they named it; 
the signals weren’t easy read.” 

“ Why, that’s at three. Are you interested, 
captain? ” 

“ I be always interested in what folks has ter 
say if they talks sensible-like.” 

“ You should, captain, find this subject an 
especially interesting one,” observed the gen- 
eral. 

“ Eh? ” questioned the old salt, glancing up. 

The party moved away towards the junior 
classroom, where the big “ spread ” was being 
served. Sir Henry and the captain were old 
acquaintances with many of the boys, and so 


296 JACKSON AND HIS HENLEY FRIENDS 


was Cossock’s father, and here, over the 
hospitable board of the college, they were met 
as comrades by the youngsters, who did the 
honors of the day. 

“ Now, governor,” hinted Dobson, “ you 
must get into form. No one is supposed to 
leave the Junior until he has eaten half a crown’s 
worth of pastry.” 

“ I know,” sighed Sir Henry, “ but really 
to-day — to-day — you know, Tommy, I 
scarcely feel up to that form. I shall appeal 
to the captain, here, to come to my assistance.” 

But Captain Dobbs shook his head. 

“ I’m all right on hardtack,” he asserted, 
“ but when it comes to this ’ere soft, flaky 
contraption as all sort’er goes to mush ’twix’ 
yer teeth, why I ’lows as I leaves that ter the 
boys. Ain’t it wonderful,” he appealed to Sir 
Henry, “ how much er this ’ere stuff boys can 
swaller? ” 

“ Most wonderful,” admitted the general; 
“ but listen, there goes the bugle, Tommy! ” 

“ That’s right. It’s all for the Big! ” shouted 
Dobson. 

There was a general exodus of visitors and 
lads, and soon they were seated in long rows 
waiting for the doctor’s gavel to fall. 

Then followed the long list of awards, and 
then the past successes in the world of “ The 


HENLEY’S GIFT 


297 


Old Boys,” and Henley cheered and cheered, 
until it appeared there could not be another 
cheer left in the lungs of her lads. But there 
was for when the old doctor arose and an- 
nounced : 

“ Augustus Dauncy, our gold medalist, will 
now claim his prerogative, and address this 
assembly,” the shouts that went up attested 
to the fact. 

It was fully three minutes before Dauncy 
could be heard, and when his voice was finally 
distinguishable it was evident that he had 
got some distance along in his speech. He was 
saying: 

“ You know, sir, it is in the opinion of the 
boys, most appropriate, and a most fitting 
climax to this year’s work, in which so many of 
them have been prepared for the naval training 
ship, that the old college should make this gift. 
As they are embarking on life’s ocean, so will 
this lifeboat be ready, — aye ready at any 
moment to fight its way out into the storm on 
its work of mercy and rescue. And it will fill 
all Henleyites with pride to know that the 
historic name of the old school is borne by a 
life saver. ( The Henley Lifeboat! ’ Think of 
it, sir! That name itself is an inspiration 
enough to make any crew fight their way out 
in the teeth of the fiercest gale that ever blew; 


298 JACKSON AND HIS HENLEY FRIENDS 

and we know, sir, that our lifeboat crews need 
little urging when help is asked of them.” 

The speech was interrupted by vehement 
applause and approving cries. 

“ The boys have, therefore, sir, subscribed 
this sum of money, and wish you to present it 
to the Royal Humane Society, in the hope that 
it may be sufficient to build and equip a lifeboat 
that may be stationed at some port of the upper 
Channel where such a boat is needed.” 

“ By Gum, sir, there ain’t a spot where ’tis 
more needed than at Minehead!” roared a 
stentorian voice, and there stood old Captain 
Dobbs, with both hands forming a funnel, and 
shouting at the top of his voice. 

Loud as were his tones, they were drowned 
next moment by the united shouts of a thousand 
boys. 

“ Minehead! Minehead! The Henley Life- 
boat for Minehead! Hip, hip, for Captain 
Dobbs! Hip for the old boy! ” 

“ The old boy,” his face crimson, and the 
happy tears starting from his eyes, sat down in 
confusion, surprised, himself, by his inter- 
ruption. 

When the confusion had somewhat subsided, 
Dauncy concluded his speech by a formal 
presentation of the purse containing the money 
raised by the boys. 


HENLEY’S GIFT 


299 


Doctor Proctor accepted it in trust, and 
promised to make known the wishes of the col- 
lege when he turned over the purse to the 
proper authorities. 

So now the name of Henley is often in the 
thick of the battle when the gallant coast- 
guardsmen and fishermen of Minehead struggle 
out to succor some souls from the jaws of 
death, just as the Henley boys are in the thick 
of the battle of life in all parts of the world. 
But the accounts of these battles form another 
story, so here we must leave our Henley boys 
at this Christmas time, all happy and jolly, all 
hastening for the trains that speed them home- 
wards to spend the Yuletide with their people 
at home. 



The Henley Schoolboys' Series 


AN AMERICAN BOY 
AT HENLEY 

By FRANK E. CHANNON 
Illustrated by H. Burgess. Cloth. $1.50 

Frank E. Channon has done quite a brilliant thing 
in discovering a new setting for a schoolboy story. A 
capital story of a lad from the United States at a big 
English public school. — Springfield Republican. 

It has a virile tone and a straightforward diction. 

— Chicago Record-Herald. 

A thoroughly good, manly story. 

— St. Louis Post-Dispatch 


By the same author 

JACKSON AND HIS HENLEY FRIENDS 

Illustrated by H. Burgess. Cloth. $1.50 

In this second volume of the “ Henley Schoolboys’ 
Series” Mr. Channon continues the adventures of Roger 
Jackson, the American boy at an English school. This 
year Jackson and his friends experience more diverting 
adventures at Henley, have an interesting vacation trip, 
in which they encounter some desperate characters, and 
take a lively hand in unravelling a mystery surrounding 
certain of their school-fellows. The atmosphere of the 
school is accurately depicted, and Roger and his friends 
are well contrasted. The book is full of action, brisk 
dialogue and “ stunts” that appeal to boys. 


LITTLE, BROWN, & CO., Publishers 
34 Beacon Street, Boston 






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